Neptunia PC: Dark Shroud Rising
by PanzerHippo
Summary: While a sinister force secretly threatens Gamindustri and the CPUs, the PC Continent can afford to remain in the sidelines. Or so it thought… (Sequel to "Neptunia PC Chronicles", takes place around the same time as Megadimension Neptunia VII; many, many OCs present)
1. Heart of Darkness

The sun held high over the nation of Leanbox, signalling another bright, sunny day. Another day of productivity and a content life under the guidance of the current ruler, the citizens going on about their business with nothing but happy thoughts. In the center of the capital lay the nation's Basilicom, it's formidable size giving the people below not the sense of danger and insignificance but security and assurance. Across the horizon, lush green hills and the clear blue sky - accompanied by the presence of a singular gold tower that stood tall - made it clear: today was another day of serenity and contentment.

But beneath the heavens, a single young woman walked alone on the sidewalk on the main street, and deep inside, she felt anything but serenity and contentedness. The atmosphere was optimistic and bright, yet she couldn't comprehend it. And although she passed by the occasional pedestrian, she continued to feel alone.

Alone and embittered.

' _Ugh. Just what was up with today? How the hell was I supposed to know that it would be another crappy busy day at work?'_ She kicked aside an empty soda can with the indifference as one would when walking, still fuming.

' _And everyone's expecting me to put up with the workload with a smile?! That's the biggest piece of BS I've heard! I swear, someone should make that it a law to make saying that illegal or something...'_ As she walked, a trio of young schoolgirls passed by across the other side, ogling and gossiping about who knows what.

At the same time, a young boy ran past, laughing and hollering with joy. An ice cream stand attracted people like honey to bees, the owner selling a popsicle once every second. Behind, a cheerful couple. In front, rabid fans as they awaited the next album from 5pb. To the side, a group of children wearing out their thumbs on handheld games. Everywhere one looked, there was always activity; everywhere one looked, people were in smiles and high spirits.

And the woman found all of this annoying.

Just why are so many damn people happy? It didn't make any sense to the woman. Everyone was smiling and filled with joy, so why was she wasn't - why did _she_ have to suffer? Why do other people have to put strain on her, oblivious to how she was feeling? Were those same people kicking back and enjoying the day? Were they smiling because they put someone down beneath them? Were they smiling _because_ she wasn't?

' _... I hate people,'_ she thought, ' _I wish I could just get rid of them. At least I won't have to deal with stupid people anymore.'  
_ ' _... That's not a bad idea...'_

The woman shook her head, tired. She fished out her phone and thought about who to call. ' _Argh… Must be losing my mind. Maybe I can meet up with someone for drinks. Gamindustri beer tastes like anything but… how about Setag?'  
_ ' _... She's no different from everyone else...'_

The woman hesitated, before pocketing her phone. ' _Egh. Maybe not. I'm too pissed off to meet up with anyone right now.'  
_ ' _... You don't need anyone...'_

The woman continued walking. ' _Heh. Yeah, I'd rather not deal with other peoples' crap, especially if they're morons. Gah, I wish someone could do something about it.'  
_ ' _... Of course, something can happen… Something_ should _happen...'_

' _Yeah, why does it have to be me to put up with this stuff? Bet they're all think they can be happy because I'm not.'  
_ ' _... Time to make things equal, don't you think?... If you do something, you won't need to suffer… Why not make them suffer?'_

The woman walked, but this time she quickened her pace; something drove her inside. ' _Damn straight! I'm sick and tired of everyone else being… the way they are! Stupid cheerful people doing stupid cheerful things while I get to slave around all day! It pisses me off! But stupid society would rather want me to deal with this with a big frickin' smile on my face than do something about it.'  
_ ' _... Then remove that society… Then you won't need to hide your true feelings...'_

Something caught the woman's eye, as she stopped to look. Directly to her side were posters of the current ruler, the one who called herself S-Sha. An empowered individual whose badge of royalty and authority came from her powers; powers that the common folk lacked. Power that dictated society the way it is. Power that kept the world the way it is.

It was that power that was the root cause of her anger.

' _... Yeah, she's the frickin' problem here. Damn goddess! If someone else was in charge, I bet things'll get interesting!'  
_ ' _... But here? Why not… the PC Continent?'_

' _The PC Continent?... Yeah, they've got their own crap goddesses. They're not even leaders, but they're the ones who're gonna keep that world the way it is. People here, people there - what's the difference? There's still society that's gonna need a good wake-up call!'  
_ ' _... Let's go there… The people there need some chaos to see what they're missing...'_

With the idea in her mind, the woman turned and quickly began to make her way to the airport. Intercontinental travel is rare, but she should be able to get a ticket there. It was only a matter of time.

 _'A world so complacent deserves a catastrophe of equal magnitude, perhaps more. A land that has gained so much deserves to lose just as much, if not more. A deep, deep plunge through pain and despair. So, how about this...'_

As she listened, the more the idea elated her - her dark desires, a twisted catharsis. Of course, it all made sense! A world so conceited, lazy, and debauched deserves nothing less.

' _... Yeah. I think that can be arranged. I think I know where to start.'_

Her pace quickened, her mood actually turning as bright as the day yet black as shadow. ' _Oh, the PC Continent won't know what'll hit them! Modern society thinks this is fine but I'm gonna show them how wrong they can be! They think they can build up from breaking my back from pointless work and dealing with people, but I'm going to tear it all down to show them how wrong they are! I'm going to show them how the world works! And I'm totally not a schizophrenic!'_

And for once, the woman smiled. A happy smile of her own.

* * *

Around the same time, the being smiled as well, watching her new puppet do her bidding. Unfortunately, she wouldn't be able to accompany her to ensure her compliance but with her convincing, her direct oversight shouldn't be necessary.

The being had waited too long for this, invested too much for her plan to fail. The last thing she wanted was for an outside force to upset her machinations: from what she heard, the Devs of the PC Continent were that land's potent force, being goddesses themselves. With how isolated the two lands are, there was no way for them to catch wind of her plot to destroy this world. But no matter how astronomical the chances are, she felt vexed leaving out unknown variables and thus deemed it necessary to take proper precautions.

And besides, even if she could reach across dimensions, she couldn't travel to the PC Continent in person to address the hypothetical threat it posed. She was too anchored to the land of Gamindustri, her spirit too attached to the land of CPUs. But it was not an attachment of fondness, for she despised the land.  
Despised it for how prosperous it was unlike her own.  
Despised it enough to seek destruction upon it and the CPUs that ruled below.

Despised it for despising her.

Oh well. Her quest for revenge didn't involve the PC Continent, and once she got what she wanted that land and its inhabitants would be irrelevant. She had already reshaped Hyper Dimension so that the CPUs would be condemned to a life of obscurity - to feel what she had felt. But that was only just the beginning. A taste for what was to come.

The CPU of darkness and delusion from another world smiled again as she turned away to enact the next step of her plot. The destruction of Gamindustri - and all of Hyper Dimension - demanded her undivided attention.

* * *

 ** _A/N:_**

 ** _HistoricHippos:  
_ And with that, the stage is about to be set for our next story, the sequel to _Neptunia PC Chronicles_! If you haven't already, I'd suggest checking it out so you'll be up to speed with our world of the PC Continent in Hyper Dimension; the characters, the places, the concepts that make it different from Gamindustri, and all that jazz. And along the way, we'll be throwing in some new stuff!**

 **And as a quick heads-up, this story and the one before takes place during the events of _Megadimension Neptunia VII_ , specifically the second and third story arcs. Expect some spoilers if you haven't beaten the game.**

 **UPDATE: Made a minor modification.**


	2. ACT 1: An Unassuming Beginning

The wind howled over the barren stretch of desert, accompanied by the blinding glare of the setting sun which painted the sky in a blood-like orange. And as two men stood, glaring at each other and with feet spread wide in confrontation, one could very well expect actual blood to spill across the sand anytime soon.

One man raised his finger, pointing it at the his enemy. " _Mojo!_ " he bellowed, his voice deep and domineering, "For far too long, you've quite the thorn on my side! But this..." he paused as his hand trembled in rage into a fist. "... Ends! _Now!_ "

"I should say the same for you, Gio!" shouted the other man, his attire worn and tattered but intact despite all logic, as though they were held by the very will of the wearer himself. "You and your pissy little gang have been screwin' with me for far too long! And now… you've pissed me off one too many times!"

Laughing in spite of his hatred, Gio spread his arms wide, mocking his nemesis with feigned defenceless. "Well go on, Mojo! Dare to act on your hatred! Dare to act on your feelings! _Dare to strike me down as I have done to your so-called comrades!_ "

Seething, Mojo began stomping his way closer, each step filled with steely determination: to avenge his fallen companions, to protect those he still could, and to defeat this evil - preferably as painful as possible. The tension was thick and the air was so heated you could actually measure it with a thermometer. The heat from the dusk sun paled in comparison to the duel that would come.

"Once I'm done with you - once I've made you pay, I damn hope you can pick your own crap off the floor so you can look at yourself in the mirror… because I'm gonna _break_ that dumb face!"

"Oh?" Amused, Gio responded by strolling towards Mojo, "Perhaps I should thank you, for I cannot break you in two if I'm not close enough!"

Two men - two individuals of might and ambitions gradually closed in at a calm regulated pace until they were close enough that they charged at each other, the two unable to contain their rage and bloodlust any further.

Their greatest duel would begin and on the sand that has yet to be tainted with blood, it will be decided here.

The duo closed in, their right fists raised as tempers flared and primal shouts bellowed and then -

 **\- To Be Continued**

As the scene froze with the graphic displaying those three words appeared and the familiar jaunty guitar tune played, the shocked expression of a petite pigtailed-blonde could be seen from the other side of the glass screen. "... Oh you have gotta be kiddin' me, here!" Cog screeched as she tossed herself flat on her back, disappointed with the turn of events. "They're doin' _another_ stupid cliffhanger?! That's like the eight time this season, and we were just abouta get to the good part! Now I gotta wait until they air the next freakin' episode!" She flailed about in a tantrum, spouting incomprehensible angry gibberish on the living room floor.

"Oh for crying out loud Cog, it's just a show!" argued a spectacled brunette standing on a chair behind Cog. From where she was, Bell was at work doing home maintenance. "They do that stuff plenty of times! It's how they make sure they get plenty of content to show while making sure suckers keep coming back."

Cog merely growled as the settled down on the floor of Bell's living room. By now, the show was well in its credit sequence as the ending music continued. Heaving a frustrated sigh, Cog forced herself to roll to the side, where she sat up to grab a slice of pizza that the two ordered. At least a good slice never failed to raise some spirit, especially if it had plenty of meat and no vegetables.

It was another casual day up in Bell's residence, a home which rested directly above her personal game store, _The Pipe Dream_. Like always, her home was a bit of a mess, with the living table cluttered to the rim with empty soda cans, unread magazines, and other assorted items that Bell couldn't be bothered to arrange - all now having to share space with a box of delivered pizza. Other places around Bell's home wasn't any better to say the least.

From where she stood, Bell was busy unscrewing the ventilation cover that hung high on the wall. For the past couple days, she had been hearing some unusual noises coming from the vents and the sooner she got the rusted screws out, the sooner she could get down to the bottom of it.

Cog munched on the pizza for a bit as she thought before finally reaching for the TV remote. "Aw possum spit. I might as well try findin' some other show to watch." An unexpected clang was heard as Bell finally managed to pry open the vent cover, courtesy of the crowbar that she materialized in her hand. "Yeah, you do that," Bell responded with uninterest.

The ventilation system in her home was too small for anyone - small or undeveloped - to fit in, so Bell could only peek inside. Immediately, she recoiled away as she coughed and sneezed. ' _Ugh! Smells like cat fur and dust in there!'_ This time, she covered her mouth as she tried to peek inside, her view obscured by the limited field of vision and from the abundance of dust. Bell stuck her crowbar inside the tight confines of the vent duct and started tapping it around. Each time, a bit of lint was disgorged but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

As Bell leaned even closer, even partially sticking her head inside, something small zipped past, eliciting a harsh squeal and a surprised yell from Bell herself as she tumbled backward off the chair. Cog glanced away from the TV listings to find Bell sprawled on the floor who sighed in annoyance. "... Great. It was a stinking roachcrab that was making all that noise!"

As Bell was talking as she sat up, rubbing the back of her head, she and Cog peered up to see the aforementioned roachcrab poking out from the open vent cover. It was a beetle-like pest the size of a packed lunch with fleshy skin-like exterior. Although it lacked eyes, they could tell it was staring at them before scurrying off, squealing into parts unknown on its four legs.

Bell sighed. "Note to self: clean out the air vents so they stop being infested with roachcrabs, dust, lint, and cat smell. In fact, why do they smell like cat in the first place?!" She slowly get back up to brush dust off her orange jacket as she went to her messy work desk, intent on designing a new contraption for the sole purpose of doing what she described. Roachcrabs loved nothing more than small confined space where they can remain discreet and hidden and while they are wild animals, calling them "monsters" would be quite a stretch as they are incapable of inflicting injuries. A more applicable term would be "pests" and that pest control was what Bell hoped to accomplish with her new contraption - if she ever got around to actually build the thing.

Cog merely hummed in apathy as she channel-surfed. As she did, she flicked through a news channel for a split-second before moving on, but it gave her a thought. "Hey, Belly? You heard anythin' about what happened before? The whole rat-piracy thingamajig?"

Bell adjusted her glasses, trying to ignore the fact that her nickname was used. "Anything from the news? Not a whole lot; a bunch of stuff that actually happened was probably kept under a tight lid, especially that last fight." Flashbacks of their quest against the video game pirates blurred in Bell's mind as she remembered. But as she did, she started cringing. ' _... Ugh, don't want to really remember the last fight. That was so uncalled for.'_

"Yeah, suppose so," replied Cog, taking another slice of pizza as she continued surfing through the channels, "Whole thing felt awesome but after that, everythin' felt like nothin' happened, like ya know when you do something real badass but no one paid attention an' stuff?"

"Well, what can you do? We went around doing stuff that no one's going to see and of course no one's going to care. And the only witnesses I can think of are the Azulerdam government because a bunch of rats snuck inside a place that no one was supposed to be in and sicced a bunch of reprogrammed robots on us. I honestly doubt they'd want to publicise that!

"And yeah, going back to what you said about how it feels like nothing happened?" Bell continued, "We sure don't have pirates as resourceful as them but from what I heard, there's still plenty of video game pirates out there. Heck, thinking about it, there's probably gonna be more of them now that the rats are gone. Nowhere near as organized but at least there's less competition now."

"Aww, really?" whined Cog, "An' here I was, hopin' at least the problem got solved by what we did." ' _Right, like we solved the problem by shooting or blowing stuff up,'_ Bell internally snarked. Oh well, there was bound to be problems on the existential nature that they couldn't really fix by fighting, but that gave Bell some chance for mental exercises. What motives do video game pirates have? Having to spend money? Having to get up to buy a physical copy? (Bell sympathized with that.) And if so…

' _Hmmm, if services are good enough, that should reduce piracy,'_ Bell thought, twiddling a pencil in her hands as she sat to contemplate, ' _... Could be worth a shot later...'_

Cog continued on the hunt for something to watch on TV until she stumbled upon another news channel. But what caught her attention was what the headline said. "Hey, Bell! Take a look at this!"

The call derailed Bell's train of thought. She hated it whenever that happened. "What is it?" She put on a bored face, expecting another insipid cartoon show or something, but she quickly changed her mood once she saw the news herself.

On the screen was a young woman with short light-brown hair, her dress having some formality of governance with her dull blue tie and white shirt buttoned up and tucked in. The podium she stood behind bore the emblem of the nation that they lived in, Conderica, with an 8-bit microprocessor bearing circuit lines that spread like eagle's wings. Below, the news channel displayed the big news in bold text, along with the woman's name: Winifred Dowes, Conderica's Administrator.

"Greetings, fellow Condericans!" As Winifred spoke, it was clear from her voice that she was the type of action despite the formal position she held. "Today, I wish to speak to all of you. As you may well know, the day is soon dawning upon us: the day in which we citizens of the PC Continent can all come together as one, whether we be men, women; high-class, low-class; of humble or divine origins. The day comes when we all have a chance to express our skills, talent, and creativity; the day in which anyone can rise to the occasion to take the first steps in joining the ranks of the land's Devs! On that day..."

Winifred immediately trailed off as she studied something on the podium. From it, a thin stack of paper was seen as she quickly leafed through them before she shrugged. "... Well, looks like this speech would've gone on for a few more minutes of sappy talk, so I'll just cut straight to the chase: the annual Festivities of Creation is coming up real soon! Over a span of a few days, anyone can try their hand in making their own games or modify an existing one. Either way, get your creativity hats on and your best dishes ready! Winifred Dowes: out!" And just like that, Conderica's admin just walked off the podium and mimed a mic-drop - all on national television.

A second of wordless comprehension was shared between Cog and Bell before Cog finally bursted out laughing. "Oh-ho man! That was real baller of her!"

Bell leaned back on her chair as the news sank. "The Festivities of Creation, huh?... I feel it's been ages since we last had one."

Cog gave Bell a teasing look. "Ages? You're startin' to sound a nanny. Hey, 'member our first Festivities? With you an' me being like, guppies in a fish pond or somethin'"

Bell nodded. "Yeah..." The Festivities of Creation was a well-regarded holiday celebrated throughout the entire PC Continent. Like what Dowes said in her announcement, the Festivities took place once in a long while over a period of a few days. It was a period in which the land would see new games, new forms of expression and art. But also, it was a major time in which existing Devs acquire more energy that made them goddesses: Acclaim.

But what made the Festivities stand out was the fact that both Devs and ordinary people could participate: those who were divine could reaffirm their status with their new and exciting products while those who weren't could share the fruits of their labors with their very own games or modifications to existing ones. Since all Devs began as individuals who made games, the Festivities was a time when new goddesses could appear, albeit as Prospective Devs. And even if they failed to ascend to godhood, the holiday was a ripe opportunity for learning and general celebration.

As Bell looked at the news, not really focusing on what was being show or said, she let her mind drift. "Wonder if any new Prospective Devs are going to show up..."

"Eh, probably be a bunch of one-trick ponies who'll push out one thing an' hope that it gets popular before screwin' off to do their own things," replied Cog. For once, she found herself actually paying attention to the news as it showed something that wasn't a cartoon show. By now, the news shifted to interviews with random people as they were asked what they thought of the coming holidays.

Cog and Bell remained quiet as the news blared on with other sundry topics, such as the ongoing investigation of what happened at the Azure Crypt, weather reports, and stock reports. After a while, Cog was the first to break the ice. "So, uh… any special plans for the party-days?"

Bell closed her eyes and sighed. "... If you're asking what I think you're asking, then nope. Haven't made any preparations and honestly, don't really care. I'm not that short-handed on Acclaim anyways."

Cog flopped on her back, putting her hands behind her head. "Aww, so still no 'Life-Half: Episode 3'?" she teased.

"As likely as you releasing 'Borderworlds 3'," Bell replied as she reached out and ruffled Cog's hair. She yelped and squirmed in surprised. "Dog-gonit, stop that!"

"Alright, alright." Bell barely had time to stop rubbing the top of Cog's head before she slapped her hand aside and sat facing the TV again, hoping to find another cartoon or animated show to watch. Bell didn't mind - in fact, she preferred it a little over being asked personal questions.

Bell hated it when people asked her stuff like that.

Thankfully, the phone rang near the kitchen counter, resetting the mood back to normal. "... Wonder who that could be," Bell mused as she got up to pick it up. The moment she picked up, a familiar voice called out.

" _Hey, Bell! It's me, Weaver! How's it going?_ "

"Oh hey Weaver," replied Bell. She knew Weaver - she was a Dev like her who lived somewhere on the northern side of the country. Having a talent for writing, she resided in her personal castle near the mountains. But why is she calling her?

"So what's up?" continued Bell. The faint background sounds piqued Bell's ears. "Where are you? Doesn't sound like you're at home."

" _Ah, that,_ " said Weaver, " _Okay, so you've heard that the next Festivities is coming up, right? Yeah, it's something to do with it._ " Somehow, Bell could imagine that wherever Weaver was, she was twirling her sidetail as she talked.

* * *

In fact, Weaver was doing just that as she sat on a chair, phone in her hand while she sat with one leg on top the other. But instead of her usual black jacket decorated with intricate silver lines that seemingly formed an image of a dragon, she was wearing a black unbuttoned blazer.

"I'm currently at this convention where I typically go, where I meet with fellow writers and fans of mine. This place got real busy now that the Festivities are coming soon."

" _Uh-huh,_ " Bell replied through the speaker.

"And I mean, there's everything: it's crowded, there's fancy food, a bunch of waiters… you know, like a fancy ball!"

" _Uh-huh,_ " Bell repeated but with evidently less enthusiasm than before, " _So how's this related to the upcoming holidays again?_ "

In contrast to Bell, Weaver's excitement was beginning to bleed through into her words. "Well, with an event like this, I was planning on revealing my latest project that I've been working on! I think you may have heard of it - I call it 'Atomic Aftermath 76!'" Weaver paused as she listened for some response, but didn't hear any. "... It'll look similar to my previous work, but it'll have a new setting and do something drastically different! It'll look good and should be enjoyable!"

This time, Weaver could hear Bell. " _... Okay, soooo… it'll use the same artstyle and aesthetics._ "

"Yep!"

" _... With pretty much the exact same gameplay._ "

"Yes!"

" _... And now instead of a focus on strong (or_ stronger _) storytelling, you'll make it basically multiplayer only with players_ hopefully _coming together to unravel the plot._ "

"Oh so you have heard of it!"

Bell then made her next remark. " _... Sounds like a recipe for disaster if you ask me._ "

" _Oh come on_!" Weaver exclaimed before immediately glancing around, hoping that no one was disturbed by her outburst before resuming the conversation in a more… civil tone. "So who cares if it looks the same as my previous work? Trying to do a little something different can't be all that bad. Well, I suppose not _too_ different, as I admit it's more accurate to say that I'm 'tweaking the existing formula.'"

Bell sighed on the other end. " _Well, whatever. I'm just basing it on evidence of how well your last game went._ "

"Oh don't be such a downer, Bell!" Weaver reassured, even waving her hand to dispel concern, "Can't know without trying! And even if my 'Atomic Aftermath 76' doesn't quite get the reception, at least BJ should be able to help cover for it!"

As she said that, Weaver thought back to how her roommate (as in, basement dweller) had actually decided to try to follow up the success of their previous joint project, but this time with more action, more carnage, and more metal. Rather simplistic, but still an effective way of making a sequel. And this was BJ, she would ask for nothing except more violence on top of the violence cake.

And as it just so happens, at the same time Weaver mentioned BJ, a loud clatter could be heard, followed by the sounds of broken glass and gasps, then sounds of scampering feet. The sounds instantly caught Weaver's attention and apparently, so did Bell.

" _... Please tell me you didn't bring her with you._ "

Weaver rested her head on her palm. "Look, it's just - well - the castle's a little off from where this is held, and knowing her I really didn't feel like leaving her there all by herself so -"

" _You brought her with you,_ " Bell finished with a deadpan voice.

Weaver sighed as the commotion continued, one of which was an evil cackle accompanied by sounds of more things breaking. "Ah, I gotta go. Talk to you later." She put the phone down and cursed beneath her breath. "Ugh. BJ you son of a..."

* * *

Bell set the phone back where it belonged and as she did, an idea sprouted in her mind. With the upcoming Festivities coming up, people would be all over the place playing games whenever they're not busy making them. And if they're celebrating by playing games…

She thought back to the news which showed live footage of preparations being made with the coming celebrations as well as the admin's speech. If there was any better time for _that_ event, now was it.

"Hey, Cog. Now that I think about it, I think I do have special plans for the coming holidays."

Cog looked up from the TV. "Hmm?"

"The Festivities are coming up, which means the next few days are going to be pretty much nothing but games. And partying" For once, Bell started smiling. "With that in mind, I think it's about time for the you-know-what."

Seeing an uncharacteristic smile from Bell made Cog excited as she started to realize what this meant. "Oh-hohohoho, boy! This what I think it is?" she asked excitedly, hopping in anticipation.

Along with her smile, even Bell began feeling a little excited herself. "That's right!... It's _sales time_!"

* * *

Within moments, the front entrance of _The Pipe Dream_ transformed with the inclusion of flashy posters, cardboard cutouts of cartoony characters welcoming newcomers by the doors, colorful garlands dangling above the windows, and a banner that proudly announced the next fire sale. And just like that, the entire store was swamped by customers as they hustled and bustled to take advantage of a wide selection of deals and games that were now dirt cheap.

"Oh, oh! I'll take this and this and this!"  
"Holy smokes, the entire collection is 80% off?! Gimme gimme!"  
"Man, I've always wanted this! It's been on my wishlist for ages!"  
"75% off… 80% off… _95% off_?! Oh sweet heavens I need this!"

Inside the chaotic atmosphere, Bell was moving up and about, brushing past customers with stacks of new items as her current stock was metaphorically flying off the shelves; rows of games and gaming-related merchandise were disappearing before peoples' eyes as people crowded the register with arm-loads of items. In another part of her store, people lined up either to pass the time by playing the arcade machines or participating in the special games that rewarded prizes ranging from trading cards to even a rare free game.

"As you dedicate yourself to another fruitless life of debauchery and neglect, please remember to maintain the queue as 94% of people would when devoting themselves to another life of debauchery and neglect," a monotone, robotic but female voice said from behind the register and the cacophony of voices. Bell's personal robot assistant, Adjunct, hung from the ceiling busy ringing up items from every customer who had braved the long line. Their items for purchase would be paid for and like a flash, the customer would be out the door and a new one would take his place.

Adjunct coolly glanced at its next customer with its single yellow-orange eye before making the transaction. "Congratulations, customer #47, for being the 47th individual today to follow self-destructive practices that would bring moments of fleeting joy. Did I mention you look remarkably unattractive today?"

"Whatever! Just take my credits so I can go!"

And like that, the customer was out the door. Bell couldn't help but smirk: as sarcastic Adjunct was with its rather interesting sense of humor due to a time spent dealing with all sorts of customers, people just couldn't help but pay up fistful of credits just for the sweet games and deals. So long as the customer got what he or she wanted, Bell got their money in the end.

And with this many people buying, she'd be practically swimming in credits in no time.

"Hey! HEY!" A shout caught Bell's attention as she immediately set the box of more merchandise she held and hurried to the source of the sound. Turning around the isle, she saw a customer - a young freckled boy - caught by the arm by Cog as copies of games were scatter by his feet. The boy squabbled and resisted, but Cog refused to yield as she held her ground. The boy couldn't be any older than a first or second-year high-schooler yet he was inches taller than Cog.

"What's going on there?" Bell asked as she marched up to the scene. The boy protested as Cog explained.

"This fella here tried to get away with stuffin' games into his jacket. Basically tryin' to shoplift."

"Hey let go of me! I was just trying to carry 'em to the register!"

Bell closed her eyes as she sighed. She's had moments like this from time to time, but that didn't mean she was any better at dealing with them. She walked close to the two, putting the boy between her and Cog. "Look. I don't know what you were trying to pull or if you even were trying to shoplift, but if you want to take that many games with you, there's some small bags by the front entrance. And besides..." Bell paused as she bent down to pick up the scattered games, looking at the price tags, "These things are cheap. Stealing isn't."

The boy finally got free from Cog's clutches as he huffed. "Alright, fine!" And with that, he walked away in a sour mood.

"... Dick-weed,"Cog muttered.

Bell shrugged, dismissively waving her hand. "Eh, nothing to hold onto for a while. I bet for every shoplifter we catch, there's like a few more that pass by us."

Bell adjusted her glasses as she went back to work, with Cog hanging about partly helping out Bell and partly just enjoying the scene. Just in one day alone had the store seen dozens of visitors who were all more than happy to get games in bulk, even if they weren't going to be playing them for long as Bell realized a while ago.

All in all, it was going to be another usual day in the PC Continent.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_

 _ **HistoricHippos:  
**_ **And thus begins what would normally be an unassuming start of the story. The whole** _ **Jojo**_ **-esque opening was a fun little idea to add as a way of kicking things off with the two intrepid Devs, Bell and Cog.**

 **So, some new stuff to explain: The Festivities of Creation came about partly as a way of representing the modding culture of PC gaming as well as a mix of indie game development (hence why everyone - Dev or not - is welcome to make a game or modify an existing one).**

 **Since** _ **The Pipe Dream**_ **store is representative of Steam, the sale is more-or-less the Steam Sales that it usually does on special occasions (though if you've already equated Bell = Valve, then this might have been a no-brainer).**

 **Oh, and for the roachcrab that Bell encountered in the vent… they're basically Headcrabs from** _ **Half-Life**_ **minus the whole "latching onto people's heads and turning them into zombies" thing. They'll even resemble Headcrabs as well.**


	3. An Apple a Day

Over in the capital city of Conderica (also named Conderica), the urban landscape was alive with activity thanks to the impending Festivities of Creation. From afar, the streets were as crowded as they were on normal days, but the atmosphere was anything but normal. Everywhere, the air was alive with gossip and anticipation as everyone talked about their plans to either enjoy the festival days or their intentions to unveil their personal contributions to entertainment. Not once was there a quiet, peaceful moment.

Further up along the main street lay the nation's Corlast: the capitol building that possessed every important government structure and facilities; unlike the Basilicoms of Gamindustri, the Corlasts were not places of worship for the nations' leaders were not goddesses themselves. The wide white-marbled rectangular complex that was Conderica's Corlast, with the bone-white pillars that marked the entrance, stood grand in the center. In the carefully green front lawn a fountain sprouted unendingly against the ocean-like sky.

And like the public space of the nation that was animated and vigorous, so was the office of Conderica's Administrator in the upper levels of the Corlast. In the oval-like office, the plastered-white walls were lined with portraits: of the past leaders, of the nation, and of the current admin. The small chandelier hung from the ceiling, basking the room in a redundant mellow yellowish glow courtesy of the bright midday sun filtering through curtained windows. An antique wooden clock hung on a wall, steadily swinging away the pendulum with rhythmic ticks and tocks. It was an office befitting of a responsible leader of an industrious democracy.

But as it stands, Winifred Dowes was busy spinning in her comfy office chair trying to kill time. All the formalities of being an orderly president she found to be stuffy and monotonous. Granted, she was elected to be Conderica's Administrator (or "Admin" for short) so she was expected to be responsible and level-headed, but despite all the duties she was expected to uphold, Winifred found the long-reigning peace to be… boring.

Winifred finally stopped spinning to gaze wistfully at her memorabilia that rested over the office fireplace: a display of medals and an old photo of her posed next to her warplane. ' _I mean, for crying out loud, that's the primary reason why the people voted for me,'_ Winifred thought, looking back to the good days of her former career. It wasn't the peace and prosperity themselves that she found skull-numbly dull - it was the _inaction_ that bored her. She had to be reminded that she was no longer in the military - but Winifred wished for the days she could re-experience some action while she was Admin. But with the Festivities coming up, she would have to be saddled with action of the non-explosive variety (fireworks didn't count according to her).

A pager on her desk beeped. " _Ms. President, you have a visitor._ "

"Alright, bring 'em in," replied Winifred as she straightened out, making sure that short trimmed light-brown hair was without a rogue strand and that the hair clip kept her bangs in place. She wasn't really keen on fashion that international diplomacy demanded, preferring a more "business casual" appearance but she'll at least attempt to put up a better face if it meant keeping her detractors off her back.

The door to the office opened and immediately, Winifred recognized who it was: Paula, head leader of the Four Squares Union that made the nation of Conderica their headquarters. She was one of the wealthy few of the country but unlike other filthy-rich folks, Paula was renowned for her charity and humble lifestyle, adopting a similar sense of fashion as Winifred. And unlike other rich individuals drunk on their own wealth, she and her political organization were philanthropic, believing in helping the common masses of the PC Continent.

She entered the door, not quite pleased with something. "What was that all about, Winnie?!" she demanded, the blue-green eyes that lay behind her square spectacles uncharacteristically annoyed.

Winifred sighed with irritation. "One: I ask that you do not call me by that nickname. It'll either be 'Winifred', 'President Dowes', or 'Ms. President'. And two: what are you talking about?"

Paula marched across the office until she was right up to the desk, her plain blue flannel shirt and silky light-brown shoulder-length hair right in Winifred's face. "I mean, the speech minutes ago! After that good start I can't believe you'd do something like that on national television! I mean, imagine the bad image it could cause!"

Winifred cut her off with a wave of her hand. "You're blowing this thing outta proportion. So what if I didn't follow the script? There was no way I was going to drone on for minutes with flowery talk and crap; you know it's not my style. And if I know my Conderican people, they don't want long dramatic speeches - they just want the good stuff. Y'know, tl;dr."

Paula sighed as she rubbed her temple. "... Your speech-writer isn't going to like this," she muttered. ("... Especially if said speech-writer was me...") Well, what was done was done, and Paula decided to push the past behind. "Oh well. Either way, preparations for the event are already in full swing. I've practically heard nothing but talk about what to do during those days."

"Oh? Well glad to hear that." Winifred heaved herself off the chair as she began walking towards to door. "Say, how's business?"

Winifred walked out of the room as Paula hurriedly followed, keeping close to her side as they strolled through the hallway. "Oh, so far, the usual. The Four Squares Union is still the largest ideology around," she reported, glad to talk about something she liked. As the head of one of the largest - if not, _the_ largest - political groups that dominated the PC Continent with its ideals of uniting the common citizen, Paula was busy spreading the good work of utilitarianism and common rights, that everybody was exempt from the four founding principles that was the foundation of the organization: that whatever is done for the PC citizen is accessible, available, practical, and functional. As its headquarters was based in the heart of Conderica, its beliefs seeped into almost every aspect of the nation, from the architecture to the general attitude of the populace. And with her status of being one of Winifred's BFF, the organization's influence couldn't be any more deeply-rooted.

The two walked on, passing by more rooms that contained the Corlast's faculty. Paula continued on. "With the Festivities coming up, we're definitely going to ramp up our influence! Of course, we already have a widespread presence but a little more can't hurt!"

Winifred chuckled. "I can already tell you're looking forward to this." She was no stranger to hearing her friend half-talk, half-advertise her beliefs. Though to be fair, the Four Squares Union's ideas practically dominated the nation and as a result, the two were always close.

"Of course! This is going to be another golden age for the PC Continent after all! For the people, by the people, as they say. A nation can be great through its leader, but it's guaranteed to be great through its people." Further discussion was put on hold as a secretary approached them tentatively.

"Ms. President, I believe you have your scheduled luncheon starts about now. The guests have arrived."

"Oh, right!" Winifred snapped her fingers, having remembered. "Got something to do today. Care to join?"

Paula nodded with delight. "Oh, certainly! Um, you don't mind telling me who the guests are, do you?"

Winifred came close to spilling the beans before she decided to have a little fun. "You'll see," she answered as she winked.

* * *

The door to the antechamber on the ground floor opened ahead of Winifred and Paula and the sight of two individuals standing in the open greeted them. Right off the bat, Winifred recognized one of them, the special guest for today: "Mackenzie, how you doing?"

Mackenzie Entosh, the Admin of the technological nation of Calipolis just south of where Conderica lay, holding the title of Magistrate by her people. Even as the guest of honor, she wore the same white tailcoat with an unbuttoned grey undershirt underneath, her long silver-cyan hair tied up in a French braid at the back of her neck and her front bangs split to reveal her forehead. All in all, far more formal and extravagant than Winifred's more simplistic choice of clothes.

"Winifred!" Mackenzie replied as the two warmly shook hands, "It's nice to see you! It's been what, a few weeks since I last visited? It feels like time really flies, doesn't it?"

Winifred turned to lead the Admin of Calipolis and her companion further into the building, talking along the way. "Hm. I dunno Mackenz, time flies when you're having fun but for me, it's been kinda dull lately. My own staff won't let me go on joy-rides around the coastline by my lonesome."

Mackenzie laughed lightly as they walked. "Winifred, you're not in the military anymore. The days of flying around and playing a game of chicken with your buddies in your youth is behind you. And besides, even if the job of being an Admin is dull there's the upcoming Festivities to look forward to! I reckon you can find something to blow off steam."

"Uh-huh," murmured Winifred, not entirely convinced. But she decided to change the topic a little. "So I take you already know my -" She turned to gesture at Paula who was trailing behind with the other guest only to discover that unlike the friendly talk between Mackenzie and her, the mood behind them was a complete opposite, with Paula and the other guest that Mackenzie brought with her avoiding eye contact. In fact, they seemed to want to avoid each other's presence entirely, if not for the fact that they had to accompany their respective Admins.

Mackenzie turned and noticed the dissonance. "Come on, Stef, why don't you introduce yourself to the host?"

"I am not in the mood for another formal greeting," griped the woman whose name was Stef. Compared to Paula who was next to her, she settled with a white suit adorned with a single red rose by her lapel. Her long hair was tied up in long pigtails, held in place by a pair of grand triangular black hair clips that peaked outwards. The fact that she was even wearing latex gloves, combined with her silver-white hair and red-tinted eyes, gave a very sterile outward appearance. "Especially in the presence of this peasant."

"Could say the same for you, you stuck-up scrooge," Paula retorted. The two Admins looked at each other in the face of the unfriendly tension between the two.

Winifred instinctively went with the first option that came to mind. She walked up to Stef who crossed her arms tight around herself in Winifred's presence. "C'mon ladies. Lunchtime is right about now. No need to have a long face, otherwise I'd call you a horse." (Nobody laughed.) "And besides: time and place, man." Winifred gave a friendly little slap to Stef's side before she and Mackenzie resumed making their way to the dining hall.

Stef scowled as she brushed off the part where Winifred had given her a friendly pat even though it left no mark. It was bad enough to accompany her benefactor to this place that was, in her eyes, primitive to the clean pure pristine towers of her home nation - it was something else to have someone outside of her inner circle try to be all friendly with her. Particularly if said friendly person was the benefactor to her political rival.

But alas, she was obligated to accompany Magistrate Mackenzie on their way to the special luncheon as part of President Winifred's treat. As she walked, Stef snuck a glare at Paula who seemingly did the same. A proverbial electric bolt arched between them.

' _Bleeding-heart plebeian lover,'_ Stef thought.  
' _Upper-class introverted twit,'_ Paula thought.

They finally reached the dining hall that was reserved for this special occasion, and the couple of custodians opened the double doors for the four of them, the others began milling about the place to make preparations. Like everywhere else in the Conderica Corlast, the architecture was utilitarian with a touch of class: plain white plaster walls with the occasional column built in and mundane pictures framed at least once on every wall. At the center was a round table; Winifred took the first seat with Mackenzie and Paula quickly sitting next to her. Stef made sure the others chose their seat before she chose hers, right next to Mackenzie but as far away as possible from the Conderican natives.

"Oh, right," began Mackenzie as she dug into a laminated white bag she carried with her. She retrieved a circular plastic box as well as a glass bottle wrapped with a neat ribbon at the top. "I brought these along as a sign of thanks for inviting me."

Winifred took the gifts and examined them before chuckling softly. "Apple pie and apple cider? I feel like you're trying to tell me something."

"Well, as someone who drinks that particular brand of apple cider often, I assure you it's of fine quality," quipped Mackenzie.

By now, the main course arrived as the custodians diligently and silently arranged the plates on the table. Mackenzie and Winifred continued conversing between each other while Paula and Stef remained hush, if only to avoid getting needlessly involved in conversations that involved each other.

"... so lately the Calipolis Commercial R&D Branch has been up pulling all-nighters, working on making the latest improvements to the MyPhone7," Mackenzie conversed energetically, "They're definitely going to push out the latest model, now with an even faster processor, bigger memory, and a more responsive control scheme." As the Admin of a tech-savvy nation, she always had a keen interest in scientific advancements and development, a belief she shared with Stef.

Winifred laughed. "Please tell me they're going to try something fresh with the design. All the phone models have been looking the same for the past few years, aside from some looking fatter or wider."

"Oh, you know how it is. Once you find a design that works, it's really hard to deviate from it!" Mackenzie cheerfully replied, "Don't fix what isn't broken after all."

"Your lab gals ever think about, you know," Winifred spoke as she lightly waggled her finger almost as if to mime the shape of her topic to her guest. "They ever thought of bringing back the classics?"

"No, I highly doubt it. Flip-phones are most positively relics of the past! Smartphones are the only way to go!" Mackenzie took a swig from a chalice of apple cider before making a refill. "By the way, any special plans for the upcoming Festivities?"

"Oh, me? I'll probably go around sightseeing, otherwise I'll be holed up in my office," Winifred responded with causal dismissiveness, "... Maybe try to find a video game I could play."

Mackenzie giggled. "I'm just picturing you in your office, behind the desk playing a flight sim or something. As for me, I'll see if I can't spare a day or two vacationing somewhere by the beaches." Suddenly, she turned to Stef who had remained silent for minutes dining very meticulously. "What about you, Stef? Any special vacation plans?"

Now forcibly in the spotlight, Stef promptly decided she had eaten her fill (which truthfully, wasn't much at all as she regarded the cuisine served with contempt). "... I only intend to look after my own affairs during those days. Not to mention take the time to enlighten those who have not yet appreciated our virtues. There is certainly no better time than now for that."

Paula almost spat out her drink immediately after. It was clear to Stef what it meant.

"Is something the matter? Is that drink not to your not-so-exquisite tastes?" she asked, glaring at her rival.

Paula wiped her mouth with a napkin then cleared her throat. "No, it's just that I happen to find this drink tainted by your pretentiousness. I bet many people would have enjoyed this drink without it."

Stef scowled, her expression darkening for a brief moment before she turned to Mackenzie who was still seated. "Your Magistrate," Stef said in a grumpy tone, "Allow me to excuse myself. I'll shall be waiting for you outside." And without even waiting a response, she turned and briskly walked out, glad to be moving away from her political contender and being closer to getting away from what she deemed the nation's artless culture.

A moment of silence followed as Winifred rolled her eyes. "... Dammit Paula."

"She - she started it!" Paula protested, taken aback by the thought that she was the cause, "If she quit being a pompous jerkbag who'd rather hang out with other rich pompous jerkbags than with anyone not rich or as smart as her -"

"Look," interrupted Winifred, "I know you got problems with her that may or may not need sorting out, but… let's just chill, okay?" She turned to Mackenzie who merely sat as a bystander caught in the middle of it all. "... Sorry 'bout that."

"No, it's… understandable, I suppose," apologized Mackenzie, "Stef's been born into that kind of lifestyle, so it's been ingrained into her. People with money will seek out other people who're the same and, um, as it stands, I happened to be one of those few people she actually hangs out with."

Paula wiped her hands and got up from her seat. "Well, with the Festivities coming up, I think I have my own special plans up to and during those days. Remember how you said that the Festivities would be a time when 'citizens of the PC Continent can all come together as one'?"

Winifred mused over the question while absent-mindedly twiddling a utensil in her hands. "Uh… yeah."

"Well that's _exactly_ what I'm going to do! Me and the Four Squares Union are going to make sure that every man, woman, and child throughout the PC Continent knows that! Because an event that openly advertises itself to be highly inclusive is exactly what the Four Squares Union is about: making sure that as many people on the PC Continent get a piece of the greatness pie!"

Both Winifred and Mackenzie watched Paula's impromptu spiel with silence, the former looking somewhat bemused. "Cool story. Have fun with that!"

Undeterred by the rather lukewarm reception to her advertised beliefs, Paula simply smiled as she excused herself from the dining hall. With the moment more of less done and with the two of them left, Winifred and Mackenzie glanced at each other.

"... So, uh, yeah..." murmured Mackenzie, awkwardly attempting to break the ice, "I really appreciate you inviting us here."

"Not a problem, Mackenz. Well, I guess it's 'hi-ho it's back to work we go'."

"Hmm. I wouldn't quite put it that way; kinda makes it seem like we'll be even busier during an event where people would be celebrating. Well, I certainly hope Stef and, um, Paula don't blow things even more out of proportion."

The two got out of their seats while the custodians went to work clearing the table after them. "Eh, what can you do? They're going to butt heads eventually," remarked Winifred. In the back of her mind, she could see the two people and their respective organizations getting all riled up against each other, but from all the years she's known, the two never went above and beyond name-calling and making each other the butt of jokes. But by the end of the day, the biggest thing both sides would readily agree on was looking after the PC Continent first and foremost (and maybe a snide potshot at Gamindustri if someone was feeling really self-assured).

"Hm," Mackenzie hummed as she wondered. "Heard anything from the others? Next couple of days will be quite busy but surely they would drop a call."

"Nah, I haven't. Or at least, not yet. I bet I'll hear something from Emi over from Cape Aspiration because that's just her. Doubt I'd hear a peep from Minerva or Tomasa, though. _Especially_ Minerva."

As she help walk Mackenzie out the door, Winifred decided to take on Mackenzie's advice: the Festivities of Creation was meant to be a relaxed time of celebration, not gloom or apprehension. Sure there would be work ahead, but nothing an admin wasn't used to.

After all, there was no way nothing could go wrong for the next few days.

* * *

 _OMAKE:_

Sitting at the dining table, Mackenzie took another long sip from her drink before she went again.

"... so plenty of people tend to ask me, the Admin of Calipolis, why we spend so much time on fancy things like touch-screens, making everything wireless and connected, or all that fancy jazz that no one else in the PC Continent ever done… Well, I say it's what makes us _us_! All that fancy stuff some people question is because we, as a nation, are daring! We do things that no one else does simply because no one else has had the chance to do them! I mean, back when we introduced the MyPod music player to the market, it was a resounding success, because no one had the chance to make it!

"But then, the scientists and, um, scientist gals in Calipolis's top R&D decided to make something better with the MyPhone. Some people wondered just what the heck they're supposed to do with a phone that wasn't a flip-phone or had actual buttons to press, but guess what? Next thing you know, practically everyone has a MyPhone or at least some version of it! We've practically _invented_ the smartphone! Heck, Calipolis invented the notion of a pocket-sized computer (granted, cell-phones kinda count but they were nowhere near the same level)!

"... And now, we've made another brave leap into abolishing a traditional headphone jack from our phones and disk drives from our computers, the very same… things that have been industry standards for… I don't know, years? The very same people who are skeptical to this sort of stuff are just skeptical. But trust me, progress is made because someone was nuts enough to try it, that someone wanted to be a maverick and fight the power!"

Mackenzie poured herself more of her drink before gulping it all down then putting her cup down in a less-than-graceful manner. Then she quickly stood up from her seat.

"... And _that_ … is why Calipolis science is the finest in the world!" Then Mackenzie hiccuped as she flopped back down on her seat.

Next to her, having remained in silence listening to Mackenzie monologue random stuff for minutes on end, Winifred finally had to laugh in amusement. "... I think you're drunk on apple cider."

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_

 _ **HistoricHippos:  
**_ **The idea for Administrators (AKA "Admins") came about as a result of figuring out who's leading the PC Continent nations since the land's goddesses aren't. If the Devs are analogous to CPUs, then Admins can be seen as the counterpart to Oracles who have similar roles, though the Admins would be more active since, again, the Devs don't lead nations. And for a bit of flavor, I had each Admin go by a unique title, such as Conderica's Admin having the title of "President" while Calipolis's Admin has "Magistrate". As more Admins are introduced, their unique titles will be revealed.**

 **In regards to appearance, Conderica's Corlast would closely resemble the US Capitol building but without the dome. There's also some White House influences as the Corlast houses the leader as well as serving as a place for meetings to take place.**

 **Also, back to the topic of Oracles, when I looked up their names and info from the wiki for inspiration, it turns out that most of their names have a hidden meaning in them which references the respective console the Oracles serve. As a result, both Winifred and Mackenzie have similar hidden meanings in their names as well.  
** **Winifred Dowes = WINifred DOWeS = Windows  
** **Mackenzie Entosh = MACkenzie ENTOSH = Macintosh**


	4. Solicitations

"So, uh, do you know where I can find a copy of _Magical Mages M_?"

Bell turned to face another customer who had tailed her down for assistance, oblivious to the fact that she was busy hauling a box of more goodies in her hands. "It's over by the aisle on the far side under the category 'Fantasy' and arranged alphabetically. You shouldn't be able to miss it."

The customer turned to the intended direction that Bell indicated. "Okay, thanks!"

Bell resumed going the way she meant to go, to another aisle to help restock items. It was another morning of the special sale and the day seemed just as hectic as every. Granted, no one said raking in sweet sweet cash had to be enjoyable. ' _Now, can I take another couple steps forward before I get -'_ "Um, excuse me!"

Bell sighed as she turned around to address another customer's need. "Yeah?"

"How come your store doesn't sell 'Galaxy Aftermath 3' or 'Battlezone 2'? I mean, I looked around but I can never find them."

Upon recognizing the two titles - and the people associated with them - Bell immediately had an annoyed look. "I don't sell those particular games unfortunately. You… _could_ find them in another store but not here. And if you're wondering why, it's a long story. So, yeah, you won't find either of those games here."

The customer seemed slightly crestfallen upon hearing the news. Without even waiting for him to turn and leave, Bell briskly went away to finally deliver the items to restock. Everywhere she walked, practically every square inch of open space was occupied by a curious observer looking around for opportunistic purchases or an eager shopper intent on splurging their credits for practically anything that remotely caught their interest.

Bell reached her destination and plopped the box down. "Right, let's see... " she murmured as she began sorting the new stock in their appropriate places while customers milled about around her. ' _... This would go here… this here… and this here…'_ She paused as she read the titles of each game in her hand. ' _Huh. "Sage of Empires", now that's a real oldie… "Icepunk"? It should go right here… "Atomic Aftermath: New Wegas". Still beats some of Weaver's stuff... "Eaglefield"... "Truckrunner"... the "Just Cuz" series… the fourth and fifth games of the "Civ-ocracy" series from SPARK...'_

After setting the game on the shelf, Bell picked up another item only to stop the instant she recognized the cover. ' _Well I'll be. It's the original "Life-Half". Really didn't expect a copy to exist in storage all this time.'_ She glanced at the all-too familiar, if archaic, cover art and flipped it around to peek at the back. Everything was just as how she remembered it years ago. The one game that helped propel Bell's career as a Prospective Dev and would lay the foundation of her other works, culminating to where she was right now.

' _... Man this takes me back.'_

"Oh! Um, miss!" Bell looked up to see a trio of young people eagerly trotting towards her, the lead girl approaching Bell first. "Um, miss? Me and my friends have been making our own indie product and we're fairly close to making the deadline for the Festivities. But we need a seller, so do you think…?"

"If you can sell your game here?" Bell finished as she adjusted her glasses, "Sure. Just make sure to sell it in the 'Indie' section with all the appropriate buyer info and store policies." Her response was met with delight from the three enterprising gamers. Ever since _The Pipe Dream_ started getting popular, Bell set aside a section of her store dedicated to selling small, independent games made by anyone with talent and creativity but lacking in finances or reputation.

With her job done, Bell got up to put away the now-empty box. The dense activity within her store made things noisy and hectic to keep up with, much less move around in with all the people to side-step or flagging her down with questions. (And if not questions, it would be comments about the store, comments about the product, and in one incident a love proposal. Don't ask.)

Bell walked past the arcades, the area still busy as ever with a majority of the customers trying their luck and wallets with prizes. By the machines, a contestant would win a free gift card, maybe a special sticker or collectible. Every so often, a lucky person would win something even more special, namely a free random game.

And as luck would have it, someone struck gold as Bell passed by. The only giveaway sign that it happened was when the contestant and everyone nearby immediately erupted into cheers, which in turn attracted more curious eyes and brought more attention.

"Woohooo! A free game?! I must've spent my entire allowance but hey, who cares?! Score!"

As the lucky winner continued whooping and hoisted her prize overhead while doing a merry jig, Bell couldn't help but smile at such display. Such enthusiasm was something she didn't see often or something she herself would do; she found it too embarrassing for her. Yet, it always stirred some feeling within her. Maybe it reminded Bell a bit of her past or of how her work reflected the world of video games and entertainment.

Or maybe because her customers were willingly dumping credits hoping to try their luck.

Another customer nearby at another machine inserted her credits and after a couple seconds of anticipation, a colorful small box fell into her waiting hands. "... Really?! Another loot box? Better be a cosmetic of Unusual quality..."

Bell silently shrugged as she turned to walk. ' _Well, when you splurge money on luck, don't be surprised if you don't get what you want.'_

Bell reached a locked door near the back where she kept her storage of stocked items and was about to push it open until she heard someone call her name. "Bell! Hey, Bell!" She turned around to see Cog jogging up to her, her expression one of something that Bell could see was not that of urgency. But whatever it was, Bell wasn't sure.

"What's up, Cog? Everything out at the front lot fine?" About a couple minutes ago, Bell had Cog hang out outside by the store entrance where the event decorations and some of the slot machines were.

"Yeah, everthin's fine and dandy," answered Cog, "It's just that there's some missy outside, said she's waiting for you."

Bell looked puzzled. ' _Someone waiting for me outside?'_ She immediately walked over towards the entrance, carefully worming her way through the cash register area which was still crowded, but not as bad as earlier. Adjunct was busy operating the register with a queue of restless customers as people filtered in and out of the store.

Bell made it through the doorway and immediately squinted at the sun's glare. It was noon and the bright sun hung high in the sky with nary a cloud in sight. After having spent plenty of time indoors, the hot midday sun made everything seem like the gamma setting had been jacked up. And appropriately, the world outside was quite sweltering; under Bell's orange hoodie jacket she was beginning to sweat.

' _Bright and beautiful day they said,'_ Bell thought with annoyance, ' _Nevermind the fact that it's hot outside, totally irrelevant. I hate these type of days.'_

Bell felt a presence to her right and glancing there, she found herself looking at young woman about her height. At first glance, Bell took the woman's attire - a white button shirt with rolled-up sleeves with a black waistcoat on top, gray pants like the kind one would see in a business setting, and her brown shoulder-length hair trimmed nice and proper with some of it tied up in a bun - as a sign that this woman was someone important. But if so, why here?

Either way, Bell believed she found the visitor. "So..."

The woman jumped with a start, not expecting someone right beside her. "Oh! I, um, uhhhh, hello? Are you, um, are you the owner of the premise?"

' _Am I the…? So that's what Cog meant when someone was waiting for me, huh?'_ Bell reflexively adjusted her glasses before she replied. "If you put it that way, sure. So what do you need?"

The young woman fumbled for something in her handbag as she spoke. "Oh, so um, you may have already heard about the, um, upcoming Festivities and, um, as a secretary working for the Four Squares Union, I'm visiting your store as a way of advertising our group! As well as, um..."

Only a blank stare elicited from Bell as she listened. "... So you're a solicitor."

The woman was quickly taken aback. "No no no! This is, um, well, when you put it that way, it does seem like solicitation or advertising but I assure you this is, um… necessary. Allow me to -" The woman swung her personal handbag and fumbled around for something inside before it all spilled out over the baked pavement. The woman gave a surprised yelp and flustered, bent down to try to retrieve her contents of handbag: pens, a plastic bottle of water, a small hand-sanitizer, and lots and lots of brochures and pamphlets.

All Bell could do was stand where she was, staring at the clumsy thing that was supposed to be a youthful secretary all because she was called to for something that (from Bell's perspective) never needed her attention. All of this under the blazing sun, mind you. Bell sighed as she wiped a sweat bead from her brow; there was no way she was personally going to stand outside any longer than necessary.

The young woman whined as she scrambled to put together her belongings, hastily tossing them back into that bag of hers. After she put her affairs back in order and got back up, Bell could see that the woman was visibly sweltering under the same heat.

"Um… so yes! I'm a secretary from the Four Squares Union! Um, my name's Malissa." As Malissa spoke, she absentmindedly fanned her shirt collar and waistcoat, seemingly oblivious to how drench her forehead and temple were or the fact that she stood under the blazing sun for quite some time to begin with, panting to expel the heat.

Bell tried not to look at how soaked Malissa's white undershirt was once she unbuttoned her black waistcoat. "Um… you do realize that if you wanted to advertise me something, you could've just walked inside. It sure beats standing out here."

Malissa looked up in surprise. "Oh! Um, I was, um… unaware I could do that. Um, yes yes! Let's head inside."

Glad to head back into the air-conditioned environment, Bell lead Malissa to her store, brushing shoulders with customers eager to play their new games and products. As she stepped inside, Malissa looked around with the fascination of a overly-curious child, looking astonished at all the customers, the aisles of games and the speed at which they were being purchased, and of course, Adjunct as it worked away at the register. Adjunct even briefly looked up from its work to stare at Malissa with its single mechanical eye. Seeing this, Malissa quickened her pace behind Bell and Adjunct looked away to get back to work.

Bell headed upstairs and Malissa diligently followed, taking care not to stub her toe into anything or trip on the steps. After the door was unlocked, Malissa saw the cluttered and cramped mess that was Bell's home. The living room floor was comprised of a single wood table by the TV with the floor littered with various magazines, scrap paper, and what Malissa presumed to be Bell's snacks and refreshments (they were actually Cog's). The walls close to a work table occupied by a computer and various mechanical scraps and tools were plastered by even more tools and various sketches and blueprints. All in all, the place was a mess.

As Bell stepped inside and turn to look at Malissa taking in the sight, she thought the same. "I, uh, don't get many visitors up here," Bell sheepishly admitted.

Malissa didn't say anything, electing to merely take in her environment with an intrigued look. At the center of the living room, Bell went about quickly setting aside the clutter to make room. She first went about cleaning up her workspace before tossing aside the now-empty pizza box and sweeping the soda cans and cartons off the table while simply brushing the litter aside on the floor. Malissa idly stood, glancing at Bell's workstation and wallpaper blueprints before looking at Bell sit down by the now-cleared table, only realizing her intention once she gestured for her to the table.

"Alright, so let's get it over with," Bell said as she leaned back. She tried to be as accommodating to Malissa as she could, but she personally wasn't looking forward to this.

Malissa laid her handbag down on the table. Digging through it, she fished out a set of pamphlets that Bell immediately recognized as the same kind that fell out earlier. On the front the emblem of the Four Squares Union was proudly displayed: four rhombuses, red, blue, green, and orange, arranged in a big plus sign-like shape. From what Bell could remember, the Four Squares Union was a dominant political organization of Conderica, if not practically most of the PC Continent. The group got their name based on their primary beliefs, each represented by a square in their emblem.

Truth be told, there already wasn't much that Bell didn't know (or wanted to know) about the organization that Malissa wanted to advertise to her.

Malissa picked up the same pamphlet that Bell had seen dropped, partly displaying the front and the emblem to Bell. "Okay, so, um..." Malissa began, "As you may have already known, the Four Squares Union embodies the idea that everyone who lives in the PC Continent are ultimately seen as equal, in the, uh, sense that we all live in the same land. Whether they be the average Joe, someone influential, or, uh, a goddess, they're all recognized citizens. So, um, with that in mind..."

Malissa paused to hand Bell the pamphlet before fetching a notepad from her handbag. She continued with her spiel. "With the Festivities right around the corner, the Four Squares Union is greatly interested in emphasizing our ideas of equality. With all sorts of people lining up to show their talents and creativity there's no better time than to remind everyone how we're all hardworking, honorable PC citizens. That we're all coming around to have fun and, uh, celebrate!" Malissa ended the last word with an awkward smile as if hoping to cover for the fact that she had improvised the last part.

Bell remained unmoved and waved her hand nonchalantly. "Okay. So what do you need?"

"Well, um, I just wanted to spread awareness, that's all!... Maybe a small donation too," Malissa reassured, "Our rival organization would want to convince everyone how everything rests in the hands of the powerful few, how we should value scientific advancement and setting new heights for our nation, etc. etc. Needless to say, my boss, uh, wouldn't want that, you see? So, um -"

Quick banging noises on the door halted all further train of thought. "Hey!" Cog's muffled voice came through, "Get yer rear down here! Some doggone junior wants to see you!"

A frustrated sigh slipped through Bell's lips as she forced herself up. "Ugh. Again? It better be good..." As Bell got up, Malissa could only remain seated where she was, caught flat-footed by the unexpected event. "U-um, uh… miss? Miss, but what about -?"

"Malissa, I got a lot of work to do," Bell interrupted as she opened the door, "If you want, you can stay here and wait until I get back so you can finish your spiel. Chances are, I just have to deal with a customer, so this shouldn't take long. Just, uh, don't touch anything. Alright?" And without waiting for a response, the door closed behind Bell, leaving Malissa alone in the awkward silence.

* * *

' _... This had better be good. This had better be good...'_ Bell mentally repeated as she marched down the stairs. Even from the top, she could hear the clamor of the sale and the sounds only got louder as she reached the ground floor. She rounded the corner to see that nothing much had changed: Adjunct was still typing away on the cash register with a long line of customers, the customers not in line for the register still filled the aisles and every open space of the store, while Cog -  
… Just approached Bell. "Oh good. See that gal over yonder?" Cog pointed and Bell followed the finger to see a rather young adolescent girl. At first glance, that girl seemed to be interested in the wares, but Bell could see that she was standing in place rather than actively explore the store. The teenage girl sported a rather girlish colorful T-shirt along with worn blue shorts, her blonde hair was curly and tied up in a short ponytail, and with her squarish glasses, she appeared to be the definitive girly-girl, the kind who'd be all into fashion, youthfulness, and children's show about ponies.

Either way, she was the customer Cog was pointing at. And by all accounts, Bell wasn't looking forward to this.

"Alright, I'll take care of this," Bell sighed, pushing her glasses up in tired habit. She made her way to the customer and as she approached, the young girl noticed her approach. She looked up at Bell with a cursory and unsure look so Bell would have to make the first move.

With a cough, Bell introduced herself. "So I take it you have a question about the store?" she asked.

And just like that, the girl seemed to brighten up. And the moment she opened her mouth, Bell slowly began to regret talking to this little girl. "So, like, I have a question about this shop. I'm looking for stuff for this, like, certain game but I'm not sure if they're here or something. Like, ohmygosh, there's so much but there's none that I was looking for since I walked inside. By the way, it's really really hot outside." The girl did not so much as talk as she babbled, words flowing out of her mouth like a stream.

On the inside, Bell felt herself slowly dying. ' _Oh god, she's even wearing braces.'_

Oblivious to what Bell felt, the young peppy girl continued. "So, yeah, basically, there's this game that I was looking for but couldn't find and I was wondering if you might help me find it!"

' _Oh boy...'_ Bell adjusted her glasses again, hiding a small sigh in the process. "Okay. What're you looking for?"

The girl took an exaggerated deep breath before she spoke. "Okay, so it's this game - I forgot what it was called exactly - but it was a shooting type of game. (' _Wow. At your age? That's some responsible parenting,'_ Bell mentally commented) So it was like, one of those shooting games, with guns and stuff, but it was, um, wasn't so serious or something. (' _In this day and age, I beg to differ.'_ ) It was like, not serious with everything; it was colorful and everyone and everything looked cartoony."

Behind the girl, Bell saw Cog wander about the aisles. As she talked, Bell could see that Cog was eavesdropping on the conversation. At this point it was clear to Bell that Cog wasn't trying to be subtle anymore and was now fully listening to the girl drone on. "So, yeah, the whole game was one of those shooting stuff but everything looked cartoony. Oh, and-and I just remembered that if you didn't want to shoot at the other players or whatever you could go look around and build stuff."

Bell glanced aside as she processed everything she heard. "... Ooooookay. We're getting warmer..."

The girl paused as she struggled to remember more details about the game she was looking for. Then her face brightened up. "Oh! And so, like, you could either shoot or build stuff or both. But not at the same time 'cause… you know. And, um..." The girl fell silent again in thought until she remembered another detail. "Oh, and I think something about chicken dinners was part of it!"

Upon hearing this, Bell (and Cog who listened in the background) died even more inside once the dots were connected. "... You're talking about ' _PubNite_ ', right?" she asked, regretting having to mention the name of that game.

While Bell's mood fell, the little girl's face brightened up even more. "Yeah yeah! That's it! I already have that game and play it a lot with my best friends but I kinda want more stuff for the game but I found out you have to go out and find them, so I thought this might be it!"

If Bell felt like a bit of her soul and mortality was slipping away, then Cog must have shared that sentiment as far as Bell could see. Unlike Bell however, Cog was willing to express it within Bell's view as the little customer continued babbling on.

"... So, um, yeah. I'm looking for the kind of stuff that just adds more stuff to that game. Stuff like, clothes - you know, special ones that you can't get - stuff like this one outfit that makes you look like a bright purple cow!" (Behind the girl, Bell could see Cog rolling her eyes in an exaggerated fashion.)

"... There's also this one outfit that makes people look like a, uh, space man with the white suit and all but it's got all these decorations that I think looks kinda awesome and cute, but some of my friends kinda don't think so." (Cog silently mouthed something that Bell interpreted it as "Are you freakin' kiddin' with my diddly hole right now?" or something along those lines. Bell honestly hoped that it was not what Cog actually said.)

"... There's also some pretty cool guns and stuff that I want to try and use, like this one huge gun thingy that's like a cannon but it's got this cool look on it with this pink unicorn drawing and whenever it shoots - it, um, shoots bombs and stuff - rainbow smoke and sparks fly out." (Cog did the "blah-blah" hand gestures with both hands as she bore an annoyed expression.)

"... Oh-oh-oh! There's also this one really cool thing that I want that other players are talking about and it's the one thing where you can get your character to do this really cool and funny dance!" (In response, Cog stuck a finger-pistol in her mouth and pulled the imaginary trigger.)

Bell let herself rest her face on her palm. The little girl for once immediately changed gears upon seeing Bell and asked, "Um, hey miss game store owner, are you okay or something?"

"Y-yeah, it's just… the noise here, that's all," Bell lied, "Anyways, the stuff you're looking for should be… somewhere over there."

"Okie-dokie, miss! Thanks!" And like that, the peppy girl twirled around and skipped away. Bell watched as she hopped off before heaving a deep sigh. Rubbing the back of her head, Bell felt like she could use a drink. Dealing with customers was one thing, dealing with children was something else; Bell wasn't fond of children. Particularly annoying ones.

Sighing again, Bell turned around and as she approached the stairs, she found herself almost running into Malissa. With a small yelp, Malissa fell backwards on her rear. Seems like the near-collision scared her a lot more than Bell.

Bell looked down at Malissa in confusion once the initial shock wore off. "Um, are you leaving right now?"

Malissa rubbed her back as she got back up. "Um, well, I suppose so. I-I certainly hope I didn't take too much of your, um, time. Um, unfortunately, I have other places to go to because… you know," she gestured to her handbag which for once, the contents were not spilled all over the floor.

"Right. Advertising," Bell replied.

"So, um, yes! I left the brochure and other essentials on the table for viewing later. I, um, apologize if I was taking some of your time so I -"

"Yeah. I get it," interrupted Bell. She stepped aside to let Malissa through. Malissa began scooting through the gap but dawdled as she did.

"Um, so, um… thank you for your time, miss…?"

"Bell. Just call me Bell," Bell answered disinterested.

But Malissa's mood was anything but disinterested once she heard the name. Her eyes widened as she studied Bell more closely, glancing at her up and down. "Woah… Um, I mean, are you… _the_ Bell?"

"Uh, I don't know anyone else who shares my name," Bell dryly replied. She already had an idea where this was now headed, as Malissa continued to stare at her in astonishment in the presence of a Dev. So astonished that Malissa had more difficulty trying to speak.

"Wow, um…! I, uh, I didn't - didn't know you, um, lived here. I thought t-this was -"

"Not what you expected?" asked Bell, "Well, don't know what to tell you. I've been living here for quite a while; even goddesses will want to live in the middle of nowhere selling games and game accessories." Malissa opened her mouth but Bell quickly cut her off.

"And before you say it, you don't have to go out of your way to praise me or anything. I'm not the kind to demand stuff like that. I'd rather just live my life normally - as normally as a goddess can, but you get the idea."

Malissa's look of awe slightly waned as she took in Bell's words. After a second of silence, she quickly glanced towards the entrance. "So I, um, guess I'll see you later…?"

Bell simply shrugged and walked away, an action that was later imitated by Malissa who decided to make herself scarce. Making sure to not trip over her own feet or the customers' Malissa made it through the door and outside, firmly gripping her handbag as she walked off to continue her organization's advertising. And this time, she'll make sure to remember that she's free to step inside public spaces. And to zip up her handbag.

* * *

Bell plopped down in front of the living room table with a tired thud. The sun was still high in the sky but Bell felt like sleeping through the rest of the day. Or if not, go for the second best thing. So long as she wouldn't have to do more work for the next several minutes.

Bell slumped forward, resting on the table. ' _Man, this whole sales thing is starting to be more work than I'd like. Wish there was an easier way than having me be there in person...'_ Glancing down, her eyes rested on the flyer and brochure that had the four-pointed emblem.

' _Oh, right.'_ Picking them up, Bell cracked them open and gave them a cursory look before tossing them back where she found them. ' _Just as I figured: the same 'ol usual.'_ She raised herself off the table and lied back, now resting on the floor. Bell continued lying where she was, blankly staring at the ceiling. Close to the ground, she could barely hear the going-ons in the store beneath her, transmuted as vibrations.

Bell continued lying down for what seemed like a minute before she slowly got up. ' _... I think I'll get something to drink,'_ she thought, ' _I could use a glass of orange juice right now.'_

As she shuffled her way to the kitchen, Bell cast a brief glance around her living room. All the stuff that she swept from the table to make clear for Malissa were still scattered across the floor. A sudden sensation of kicking aside an empty cardboard take-out made her jump. Bell grumbled at the prospect of having to clean it all up.

Glancing around, Bell could see that her living room was a real slob, perhaps more so than usual. Bending down, she picked up the discarded cardboard and plastic bottles and tossed them into the trash can, which itself was already starting to become full as some of the tossed items plonked off the top. Bell cursed. ' _Ugh. Fine, guess I'll clean that up later.'_

As she picked up an empty carton of milk, a white scrap of paper caught her eye. Glancing at it, Bell could see it was some kind of form dominated mostly by intricate sketches that took up the majority of the paper; the rest were scribbles of notes, details, and as she looked, her name.

' _Oh, right. That's one of my designs from a long while back.'_ Picking it up, it took Bell a second to realize that she was looking at the schematic of a deployable fabricator. Reading through the notes, Bell recognized all of the equations and designs. She remembered how she made the plans, how she drew up initial ideas, evolving with each new iteration. All of it was all on the paper in front of her.

' _Huh. This makes me a little nostalgic. A "dispenser" that would've been able to crank out whatever was needed as any fabricator would do would be real useful. Wonder why it was on the floor...'_ Peering around the paper, Bell suddenly realized that her other schematics were all scattered around her work station. The work station itself was messy, with loose paper poking out of the cabinets and file-holders.

Bell sighed at the sight. ' _Really. What happened, did my living room somehow had the right conditions for a tornado to appear and run through it?'_ Tossing the empty carton aside, Bell went to work gathering the scattered paper and putting them in order. Each paper, Bell recognized more and more of her inventions (or would-be inventions).

' _Yup. More stuff that I definitely remember making (some of them I'm not sure why).'_ With each paper she picked up, Bell caught a quick glimpse of each design they held. Each a small piece of her past. Bell shook her head to shake off the nostalgic feeling - people get so caught up in their flashbacks. ' _Huh. I swear, I don't remember my work place being this messy before. I certainly don't remember the last time my stuff got scattered on the floor… Eh, maybe Cog's been up here when she went to take a break. At least she didn't spill any drinks on them. I'd kill her if she did that...'_

With the paper all in stacks stowed in their proper place, Bell's work station now looked a little cleaner - there were still some random pencil or scrap lying around her personal computer but it was a start. Breathing in relief, Bell rubbed the back of her neck.

' _Now what was I here for again? Upstairs… the AC… the Dyson-Greene model for quantum mechanics and engineering… cat repellent..._

' _... Oh, right. I'm feeling tired. I should take a break.'_


	5. A Day Out

The weather the next day wasn't much different from before, but at least it wasn't as hot. But unfortunately for Bell, that was still a little hot for her.

Beside her, Cog stretched her arms and back as she walked, her assortment of tools hanging from numerous belts clopping lightly against her overalls with each step. "Well dip me in nacho cheese, it's a bright day outside!"

Bell looked at Cog, unamused. "Oh you _just_ now realized? Yesterday I could've sworn it was hot and bright enough to make me think that someone replaced the sun with an open nuclear reactor. It might as well have been one with this much UV rays." From what Bell saw, Cog didn't seem unaffected by the brightness. Aside from it being a result of where she lived, Bell had no idea how anyone could stand the heat. And here she was, walking alongside Cog to find a decent place for lunch out under the yellow-hot sun, all in the name of taking a day off.

' _Ugh. I feel like the today's sun itself should be labeled a radioactive hazard. I really should've worn a hat or something. Doesn't have to be a sombrero, anything that doesn't make me squint in the sunlight would work...'_

As the pair walked from the suburbs to the downtown area, Cog peeked to the side at Bell. To combat the heat, she had taken to removing her typical hoodie jacket and wrapping it around her waist, with nothing but an wrinkled white sleeveless shirt for show.

"Eyyy, lookin' mighty fine there Bell," Cog lecherously teased, "Lookin' to show some skin for once?"

A light slap came as a response. "D-dummy! It's freaking hot outside, that's all! You're the one who had the idea of getting the two of us to go out in this weather!"

"... I thought you were the one who made that idea and convinced me," Cog replied.

"W-well you should've objected to it then!" Bell retorted as she looked away to adjust her glasses. In truth it was to hide the fact that she was slightly blushing. The shirt was a little loose and wrinkly but that was due to negligence and indoor living. "At least there would've been a chance that we wouldn't be out here."

Sulking (and still sweating) Bell continued walking alongside Cog through the streets of Conderica. Everywhere they went, signs of preparation could be seen, from billboards advertising the next big upcoming game to every window seemingly plastered with posters. Even the skies above them weren't spared from the festive atmosphere being put on as numerous ribbons and banners that stretched across the street fluttered over their heads. The Festivities haven't even begun yet it seems as though it already has. Looking around, both Cog and Bell could see nothing but advertisements that endorsed a sequel to a franchise they've already heard of or something original and new that a Dev - aspiring one or not - was making.

Cog merely looked at the buzzing activity around her and stuffed her hands in her pockets. "Huh. Wowzers, they're really goin' all out on this whole business," she quipped, passing by an ice cream vendor whose owner had his hands tied with selling Blue Screen ice pops to a mob of customers. "... Hey, Bell. Wanna go out for some dessert once we're done?"

"No I'm good. Those things are always guaranteed to give you a brain freeze. I hate getting brain freezes."

"Oh c'mon. It's not like you're gonna put up extra weight with just one popsicle, Belly."

Another light slap hit Cog at the back of her head. "Shut up!" Then beneath her breath, Bell quietly muttered to herself. ' _I bet you want one so you finally hit that growth spurt of yours,_ Coggie _._ ' Although tempting, Bell knew better than to say that in the face of the pigtailed blonde who was a head shorter than her and with a chest so flat she could be a airport runway. Unless of course, Bell felt like having everything within a kilometer radius become a smoking crater.

The passing sight of a poster entered Bell's view as they walked, yanking her attention to it. It was a colorful yet simplistic window sticker that advertised the Four Squares Union with the emblem prominently on the corner behind a generic image of a healthy family (that in Bell's opinion wouldn't look out of place in a typical word processor). In the foreground were the words "Together - We can all make the PC Continent a better place to live!" (and of course, all typed in a font and style that all screamed "generic", "cliche", and "I was made by an underpaid and unmotivated intern so please send help"). Copies of that same poster could be seen lining up the entire display glass as well as the brick wall next to it.

And as Bell and Cog walked, a bunch of posters advertising upcoming games and products could be seen, their more varied style and aesthetic clashing with the uniformity of the Four Squares Union's. It didn't help that they were practically everywhere or that they seemed to be alternating - political ad one moment, then a bunch of game posters the next.

' _Yeah. Totally not excessive or conspicuous or anything,'_ Bell mused. She observed another set of flyers taped to a nearby window that this time, their prominent image graphic was the entire landmass of the PC Continent, all filled in with the four colors of the same organization. And next to the landmass, Bell spotted another continent that she partially recognized as that of the other side of the world: Gamindustri. But unlike the PC Continent shown, Gamindustri wasn't colored in any special way. In fact, in the name of violating any common geographical sense for the sake of making a statement, the entire landmass of consoles was shrunk to almost be insignificant in comparison to the PC Continent, with the text below encouraging unity, betterment for our land, blah blah blah.

But as she walked, something odd caught her eye. At the corner of a pawnshop that bordered an alleyway, there were still more of those political ads plastered on the shop window. But what made them different were the rough scribbling that were plastered on the posters as haphazardly as they themselves were placed. It wasn't until she passed right by them that Bell could read what the scribbles were.

 _Better get working, windowlickers!  
_ _Ain't gonna let lazy commoners feed off our work!  
_ _Go ahead - WG gonna leave you behind!_

WG… Bell couldn't help but quietly scoff to herself. Of course the rival political organization - the Weiss Guild - would be behind this. They and the Four Squares Union just couldn't agree on anything unless it's about making PC Continent #1 in Hyper Dimension; it was just _how_ that the two were squabbling over. And as she continued walking, a sight that managed to amuse her were pamphlets taped to a pole: but they were white, black, and adorned with the Weiss Guild logo. And just as Bell suspected, the pamphlets' messages of progress, advancement, and purity were blemished with vandalism.

' _Advertisement for a group way out in the middle of their rival's territory. Of course there's nothing wrong with that plan.'_ Bell turned to Cog who didn't seem too aware as far as she knew. "So are we there yet? I doubt a burger joint would require this much walking."

"Oh hold yer pockets, Bell. In fact, I think there's a place right up straight ahead that I think is open and stuff." Straight ahead, past the thicket of pedestrians that filled the streets, was a neon sign that indicated a nearby diner. Bell didn't recognize it as the same one they went to last time; hopefully the staff there didn't drown their meals with sauce. Bell also kept a mental not to make sure not to go down alleyways to investigate suspicious noise this time.

Cog went first, shoving the door aside and much to Bell's surprise, there was available space in the diner even during the midday rush hour. Inside, the diner had a clean retro feel, with a gleaming checkerboard marble floor and thick wood that made up tables and furniture. Off to the side was a long countertop lined with stools and various guests all gathered round for a quick bite and drink.

"Welcome!" cheerfully greeted a waitress dressed in white: white dress, white apron, and even a white dixie cup hat on top, "Table for two?"

* * *

"... and as you can see behind me, people are already flocking to the streets and public spaces in anticipation of the upcoming Festivities of Creation," a reporter announced from a TV that hung from the diner ceiling. From where she was, there wasn't much else for Bell to do besides stare off into space or look out the huge windows that currently showed a traffic jam. Some celebration this was turning out to be.

"... with tens of thousands lined up to participate in the Festivities - and with a slew of exciting new games and ideas - it's entirely possible we might see a new Prospective Dev rise from their ranks - an aspiring new goddess for this land," continued the news reporter, "And of course, with the prospect of godhood and divine energy on the line, it remains to be seen if the ranks of existing Devs can compete - to see if they can gain more Acclaim energy to increase their powers. Many of us are already eagerly awaiting the new announcements from them. In fact, I believe one such Dev is willing to leave us with a teaser. Tom?"

The scene in the news shifted, with Tom in the center of the screen, sitting inside what was the interior of the news station. "Thank you, Becky. With the Festivities about to start, and with thousands lining up to celebrate it as well as putting their creativity skills to the test, there's no doubt that they'll have to compete with those with experience. Already many of the land's Devs had announced and submitted their upcoming projects, so they've been busy as of late. But fortunately, one has been willing to share some time for a quick interview. Introducing..."

And at that moment, the interviewee stepped into the screen, her bright blue attire and hair and more importantly, her personality, immediately taking center stage of the news cast. "Helllooooo to the world and to my adoring fans!"

Bell instantly spat out her entire drink, for she instantly recognized who it was. "Who else but the one - the only - great Blau to grace the broadcast today!" sang Blau who went out of her way to get close to the camera to strike a fanciful pose with a bright smile and a wink, "I can't express my gratitude enough for being on air today with all of you (courtesy of the United Simulcasting Business) to announce that I, Blau, will be announcing the upcoming 'Devilord: Immortal' made by yours truly, Blau, revealed live at my mansion! And for you long-distance fans, fret not! The reveal will be streamed live so you won't miss a beat!"

Immediately, it was apparent who was really stealing the show, as Blau's sheer enthusiasm was drowning the show host to obscurity in the background. "U-um, yes… So -"

"Ooh! Wait!" In a flash, Blau switched tracks and fished out her phone, a flip-phone decked out with a shiny marble-like exterior. "I just had the perfect idea! I, Blau, shall contact a special individual I know to ensure that she is fully aware of my imminent and eminent moment of glory _on live television_!" And without further ado, Blau rapidly tapped a series of numbers and let the call go through.

And it just so happened that at that instant, Bell's phone started silently buzzing in her pocket.

' _... Oh hell no,'_ was all Bell's consciousness could formulate.

Meanwhile, on the TV, Blau continued staring intently at her phone, the dial-tone ringing as she waited, energetically but quietly tapping her finger. Besides her, the host tried to get with the scheduled program. "Um, okay, so miss Blau, you, uh… happen -"

But Blau didn't seem to hear him, as she promptly closed her phone with a slightly disappointed look. "Oh poo! It appears that that special someone would be so rude as to leave me, Blau, hanging. Oh well, I shall let my excellence and impending success do the talking!"

With a quick twirl, Blau whipped out a small placard that was solely decorated with the title and logo of her upcoming game. "As the next installment of the Devilord franchise, I, Blau, ensure that it'll be astounding! Mesmerizing! Even rock your socks off! Stay tuned at my Tweeter page! #BlauIsBae! Toodles!" And with that, she practically leapt off the stage, leaving behind the host who clearly looked confused.

"Um… the interview… er, commercial. G-go to commercial..."

As the news ended, Bell looked away from the TV, rolling her eyes at what she saw. ' _... Acclaim-sucking showoff..._ ' Already Bell's mood has soured more than the hamburg steak that sat neglected on her plate (the thing was a little too high on salt and sodium in her opinion). Meanwhile, the TV was now blaring an advertisement of some kind of FPS game that was titled 'Battlezone V', among other things.

Bell peered up to see Cog busy stuffing her face and likewise, too busy not paying attention to everything around her. Oh how Bell envied blatant ignorance sometimes. As she reluctantly went back to her lunch, Cog began talking, oblivious to the fact that her mouth was full.

"So anythin' you want to buy anytime soon? There's been this one thing I had my eyes on over at this little store near my abode."

Bell paused to think. Come to think of it, was there anything she wanted? It's only been a couple days since she launched the sale and already she was making some serious bank. She was practically rolling in cash - so what could she use with that much money?

More games? It wasn't like she was short-handed in things to play with; some of the games she already owned were busy collecting dust because of how many she has.  
Food? Yeah, as if. It's not like she's running low or not wanting to gain weight…  
Furniture? Computer parts? Or...  
"... Eh, I'm not sure," Bell sighed, "Maybe I can go for some new computer parts. Maybe the GF8000 or the OP80-9000 parts; they've got to be really top-notch with the price tag to match. Or maybe buy some scrapped machinery and use the parts for something else."

Cog continued munching at her hamburger. "As fer me, I wanna get my hands on that machine gun grenade launcher, belt fed!" She paused as she quickly and carefully peeled a tomato slice from her burger. "That thing looks real wicked sick, sure beats the discount homemade ones since it's supposed ta be military-grade an' whatnot. Maybe go for the twin barrel attachment that they had for sale as well. I mean, those 'ol combat shotties are the bees' tits but you try laughing off a quad-barreled super shotgun!"

Bell scoffed. "Yeah, until you pull the trigger and find out that you dumped all four shots at once. And when that happens, I hope you love reloading."

"Yeah, well I bet no self-respectin' dingus on this dimension would be able to stand tall after gettin' his teeth kicked in against a modded super shotty," replied Cog who was very quickly becoming more invested in the discussion at hand than her food, "I love rapid fire and all more than I love honey mustard-dipped chicken wings but boy howdy if I miss out on a chance to just blow away stuff in one shot!"

"Well there's nothing wrong with a combat shotgun or a regular one," Bell argued. She wasn't planning on escalating things too quick too much, but a topic such as this was getting her warmed up. "On its own, you got plenty of shots before you have to reload; candle that burns half as bright lasts twice as long or something. Fully modded, those things can really kick a lot of ass!"

"Grrr, whatever," Cog said flatly. "... Anyways, that thing I was talkin' about before - I'd buy that in a heartbeat if I had enough credits. As well as this big-ass gatling gun, a magazine-fed rocket launcher with supposedly can come with this 'lil optional bayonet, DIY satchel charges, and some beef ribs. I could really use some beef ribs. Maybe some corn dogs too."

"Hm," hummed Bell as she leaned back, half-paying attention to the conversation. The topic itself was still fresh but the more she thought about it, the more she started to feel unsure. So much stuff she could want - it was practically paralyzing. Her wants and desires were mostly confined to the immediate sense: sleep, rest, going home, etc. But actually _thinking_ about what she wanted?

What did Bell really want anyway?

… What did she really want in her life?

Suddenly, Bell found herself ripped from her inner thoughts and back into reality, staring at Cog's face that was right in front of hers. "Ya okay, Bell?" she jokingly asked.

"Agh, for…!" Bell blinked. "... Did you seriously just poke my face with a french fry?"

"Well… yeah," Cog replied as though asked what color the sky was before promptly gobbling the aforementioned fry. "No, seriously - you had that blank look on your face. Wassup, you havin' a flashback moment or somethin'?"

Bell rubbed away the slight tinge of grease and salt from her face, annoyed. "No, I was just… thinking."

Cog looked quizzical at the response before simply shrugging her shoulders. By now, the TV had long abandoned the news segment and instead, some sort of talk-show went on as two people on stage were fully engrossed at the topic at hand: expectations, hopes, and things to look forward to for the upcoming Festivites. Even if their discussion went to talking about industry trends, society, or their recent shopping trip, it all tied back to the special occasion that would grace the PC Continent. It was nothing but that.

Outside, through the windows, was a world whose day was still bright and energetic. Looking outside, Bell could see only crowds of people flowing in and out of the streets. Balloons, banners, and street vendors trying to capitalize on the events seemed to choke the streets. And above all, Bell could see more of those posters and signs doing their damndest to get in everyone's field of view at all angles. Everywhere one looked, he or she would never stop being reminded of the few days in which the beginning of godhood would be up for grabs and expectations from existing goddesses would be high, all while everyone went about splurging their allowances and personal savings in the name of enjoyment.

She leaned back and quietly waited. For the first time Bell could remember, she was actually starting to feel tired with all of it. At least she'll have the money to look forward to...


	6. Corporate Society

Somewhere in downtown Conderica, there lay a flat blocky building that at first glance was no different from the windowed corporate buildings that were next to it. But if one were to cast their gaze a little upward, they would see that this building - unlike the others - was unique in its red, green, yellow, and orange stripe that ran near the top of the building roof. And on top of the stripe, was the four-pointed star of the Four Squares Union.

Unfortunately, Paula wouldn't be able to see and admire the decoration from her office near the top. But as a silver lining she could marvel at the landscape of downtown Conderica, the numerous corporate buildings, roads, and neighborhoods carpeting the landscape while the country's mighty factories lined the horizon behind it all. To Paula, the view was representative of Conderica as a whole: a nation of industrial and economic might. And she liked to imagine that it was thanks to her organization's ideas that made it this way.

' _Well, that's enough of that,'_ Paula set aside the cup of coffee on her desk, stacks of paper and reports sitting alongside other miscellaneous items that could fit on the already-crowded desk. ' _I can probably admire the view at another time. I wonder how the others are doing...'_

The office door jingled as Paula stepped into the hallway. The interior of the workplace here at the Four Squares Union headquarters did admittedly looked no different from the corporate-clean decor of a workplace, but that was part of the charm.

Out in the hallways, coworkers frantically paced to and fro. With the holidays coming up, Paula had the entire organization practically working around the clock, mostly venturing out to perform door-to-door advertising and public rallies. Having a strong presence throughout the continent meant covering a lot of ground: not just here in Conderica but in nearby nations of Pedissia and Azulerdam to the east, Cape Aspiration to the west, and even down south in Calipolis. The thought of the last two nations slightly dampened Paula's chipper mood as she walked; Calipolis was her rival's stronghold and the folks over at Cape Aspiration were quite the queer ones. Nevertheless, the organization still had offices there, even if they were small.

As Paula walked, she briskly passed by her peers. Quick greetings would be exchanged before they parted ways; traffic left little room for idle pleasantries and both parties no doubt had places to go. Posters, both generic and unique but all motivational, lined the sides alongside potted plants and the occasional trash can. The entire headquarters building was buzzing with activity; no doubt a similar phenomenon was being played out in their various departments. The clutter and traffic in the hallways was the personification of the noise that went on, from phone calls, casual gossip, and broadcasts from TVs and radios.

Paula visually picked out one of her secretaries in the hallway, someone high enough in the hierarchy that she could trust. "Everything looking good, PoPoint?"

The secretary turned, surprised to see Paula. "Well, nothing's going wrong, I would say." In her hands was a thick stack of paper. "Just need to deliver this to room 427. Stanley's said that he and his team needs more posters and pamphlets to cover the downtown area along Vista and 10th Street. That is, whenever Stanley's done being a button-pusher. Then after that, get in touch with Word to oversee the FSU-sponsored career fair."

Paula immediately scoot to the side to let the secretary through. "Oh! Well then, go ahead. We can catch up later." And with a quick thanks, she parted ways and left Paula to continued strolling down the hallway. Paula had dedicated a good portion of the organization to door-to-door advertisement as she preferred the advantages that personal encounters had when it came to selling your ideals; nothing better at connecting with your potential audience than having a friendly face come greet you no matter what.

A coworker quickly greeted Paula as they moved in opposite directions and as she was about to turn the corner, almost smacked face-first into another coworker. Both recoiled from surprise, gasps and falling paper punctuating the moment until -

"... Malissa?" Paula breathed a sigh of relief upon recognizing her face. Malissa hesitantly relaxed, the surprise having yet to wear off. Then, she immediately looked down at all the paper that lay scattered by her feet and knelt down to scoop them all up.

"Hey hey," Paula said soothingly as she knelt down as well to help. "My bad. Wasn't looking at where I was going. Stuff like this happens on busy days, you know?" Picking the paper up, Paula was able to catch quick glimpses of their content and realized that they were monthly reports: reporting the usual. With such a special holiday coming up, and with the entire organization mobilizing, there had to be a whole lot of coordination involved. Not just keeping note of what went down within the headquarters building and the city, but also among the various departments that were scattered across the PC Continent, from Cape Aspiration to the west, to Azulerdam to the east, and even so far as having a single office in Leanbox.

Unfortunately, the size that gave the Four Squares Union its power and resources also meant that there had to be _a lot_ of coordination; all communique, accounts, transactions, and even simple requests like who stole who's red stapler all took a while to deliver and receive. Paula made sure she had plenty of people who could be trusted to help facilitate the bureaucracy, but even that did little to alleviate the fact that the prominent organization could be slow and inefficient.

And as luck would have it, one of those individuals Paula entrusted as one of her secretaries relatively high up in the hierarchy was right in front of her face. By now the scattered paper were back into a stack. Timidly rubbing the back of her head, Malissa nervously glanced to the side. "Um… thanks."

"No problem, Malissa, that stuff can happen to the best of us. How's business?"

Despite her slightly disheveled look as a result of her earlier excursion, Malissa still maintained the semblance of honest, hardworking professionalism that Paula always found endearing in her. Malissa awkwardly gestured to the direction she was originally going with the paper in both hands. "Um, well I was supposed to deliver these to the accountant's office for, um, accounting."

Paula's face brightened up. "Oh, well in that case let me walk with you there. I was just walking around to kill time."

"Um!... Sure!" The two walked down the hallway, with Paula and Malissa walking side-by-side though whenever someone passed from the opposite direction Malissa readily shrank behind Paula.

"Say," Paula opened up as she walked, casually turning her head to face Malissa. "How'd the job go?"

"Oh! Um, I guess it, uh, went well. Got all the deliveries done, although there, um, were two incidents in the suburbs that both involved some, um, really… odd homeowners. Well, one incident was about the, um, homeowners while the other involved a minor infestation of, uh, caffeine-addicted raccoons. Oh, by the way miss Paula, you won't believe who I came across earlier!"

"Oh?" Paula turned her head towards her secretary, attention undivided as they walked. The sudden shift in Malissa's tone meant that whatever she encountered during her work had to be something remarkable.

"Earlier when I was going to the place where the downtown meets the suburbs, I came across a Dev! A-an actual Dev in person! I-I just, I wasn't expecting to meet one of the PC Continent's goddesses but -"

Paula stifled a chuckle. "Malissa, there's like a dozen Devs around here, and that's not counting the Prospective Devs - the junior gals. So… what was her name?"

Malissa made sure she was keeping up exactly with Paula before leaning in a little closer to her ear. "She, um, she said her name was Bell."

Paula nodded with a small smile. "Ah. Yeah, I know her. Never met her in person but from what I heard, she's a real brainiac. Not only could she build some crazy stuff like it was nothing but she was a pretty top-tier Dev."

Malissa frowned. "But she lives in a game store. I'd think someone with her talents and skill would -"

"Live someplace fancy?" Paula joked, chuckling a little before she continued with a more serious expression. "I'd probably chalked it up by saying it's humility, but like I said: she _was_ a top-tier Dev. Back then, Bell used to be a real powerhouse of a Dev - some may even claim a legend - but for whatever reason that's no longer the case. Nowadays, the most anyone gets to see of her is from that store selling other Devs' games. Heck, I don't think she's ever participated in any Festivities of Creation for quite a while. She's made plenty of franchises that many thought would continue for a while, then suddenly, nothing!"

The duo continued walking through the bustling hallway in silence until they had arrived at the office door denoting the accountants' station.

"Oh well. Guess that kinda killed the mood, didn't it?" Paula joked before opening the door. Inside, the office was large and busy as ever, though with some of their own absent due to the work. The few that remained sitting amidst piles of papers swiftly accepted the reports delivered by Malissa before both parties parted ways and went straight back to work.

Now that the delivery was finished, Malissa was all too glad to finally be rid of the weight and used her free hands to rub her back. Still beside her, Paula made a quiet but tired laugh. Even though she hasn't actually worked, mere participation in the hectic atmosphere was wearing her out.

As the pair simply stood right outside the accountant office door, trying not to interfere the incoming two-way traffic as best as they could, a small idea popped in Paula's head. "Hey, Malissa, when you have the time off this evening, wanna go out for dinner? There's this one place that should be large enough to have a handful of other people. No better way to wrinkle out the stress of a hard day's work, so what do you say?"

But to her surprise, Malissa timidly shook her head. "No, um, I'm terribly sorry miss Paula," she answered. Malissa seemed to nervously glance away and from what Paula could tell, she seemed a little embarrassed. "I, um, got other plans today. You know, just hard-working secretary stuff!"

The two laughed. Paula was surprised that Malissa would turn down her offer, but at the same time it didn't really surprise her as she was a dependable worker that Paula liked. Same could be said for the other secretaries, but there was a reason why Malissa held quite a high place in the organization. Even though she felt a tinge of disappointment, Paula would respect her wishes. "Alright. You do you, Malissa. Take care of yourself, alright?"

And with that, the pair went off their separate ways, but it wasn't even three steps in that the sound of thud made Paula turn around. Where Malissa once stood, Paula was greeted to the sight of her but now prostrate on the ground.

"Owwww…." Malissa grimaced as she gingerly got up on her knees.

' _... Oh yeah. Forgot about that,'_ Paula remembered.

* * *

The headquarters staff lounge was crowded but Paula managed to find a seat to rest. With so many staff working, the staff lounge was quite crowded due to the tide of workers looking to rest their bones and wrinkle the stress away. The only things that attended to their ills were the tables, seats, an abundance of coffee, and a lone radio tucked away in the corner.

Paula made herself as comfortable as she could on the cheap plastic chairs. No doubt that as enticing it was to rest for long, others will want a place to rest as well. She was only here to rest her feet for a few minutes, and after that she would be off and away to oversee other operations. But for now, as Paula sat, the sounds of buzzing gossip among her coworkers and the radio filled the air.

"... Man I wish mom packed me a bologna sandwich that isn't soggy because the meat's been moist and sitting in my lunchbag for so long..."

"Hey 8-Bit, wanna meet up at my apartment once work's over? Got a game mod I'd like to finish..."

"... and just like that, sticking in that MS1000 graphics card with the quad cores did the trick for me!"

"That's nice. Better than that one time I tried making the circuitry smoother by splashing some elbow grease. Darn thing lit up a fireplace! At least the word processor still worked..."

"... I still remember this one time I salvaged some junked computer and decked it to the gills with twin quad cores, several fresh circuit boards, and even a car battery! Once I go home, I'll probably see if I can make the desktop a gif."

"Heh. What can't anyone do with a computer and some spare parts these days? I'd like to see something that can't be retrofitted or modified to hell and back!"

"Something like that does exist, they're called consoles."

Laughter broke out before the sounds of chatter reclaimed the room again. Paula couldn't help but smirk at the joke. But something within that one-off joke did remind her of something: that a momentous event such as the Festivities was an equal-opportunity chance for everyone to become something greater. A chance to prove themselves that they were talented and had vision regardless of circumstances. Everyone was, for a few days, equal - and in Paula's eyes, that was what defined the PC Continent's unity (even if it did mean poking a bit of fun at the other side of the world).

By now, more people were strolling in and Paula interpreted it as a sign to leave. She's well-rested and got some work to do as the head leader. ' _Hmm. I should probably head to the marketing division. See just how much areas we've covered and how well the broadcasted adverts are faring. Maybe even -'_

As she was walking to the exit, Paula's train of thought drifted away as something caught her eye. Lying on one of the break room tables was a handbag. Completely occupying a table all by itself, no one sat near it, so that meant that it belonged to no one. But who…?

Paula briskly made her way to it and as she got close, couldn't help but feel as if she had seen the handbag from somewhere. As she pondered at who would leave something behind in a place like this, Paula's phone rang. She slipped it out from her pocket, half-expecting it to be a random caller doing their own advertisement or someone within her ranks that wanted to call her for business-related somethings.

Turns out, it was something a little more unanticipated, as Paula saw Malissa's name on the caller ID. Confused, Paula tentatively accepted the call.

" _P-Paula? Miss Paula? Have… have you seen my… um, my handbag anywhere? I-I mean, I thought… I had it with me, or, um, left it in my office up at 444. But I can't find it anywhere! I mean, I looked all over my room and-and even retraced every path I took up and down the building to -_ "

"Um, Malissa," Paula said, eyeing the handbag with suspicion. "... About this handbag of yours… It doesn't happen to be blue, made of denim, and currently sitting in the staff lounge on the third floor?"

A wordless gasp came from the receiver. " _... Really?! Oh, um, can you please give it to me? I'm, uh, I'll head up to where you are! I'll - I'll meet you by the elevators!_ "

Paula smiled, despite being aware that her secretary wouldn't see it. "Try not to trip on your way there, alright?"

* * *

Above the murmurs and footsteps of her fellow coworkers filing past, Paula could definitely hear someone approaching. Down the hallway, she could see a certain brunette bounding down the hallway, slipping past and around bystanders in a mad dash to where Paula stood. Upon seeing Paula - and her handbag - Malissa's face lightened up. But right as she was about to reach her destination, Malissa had the misfortune to slip and fall flat on the checkerboard floor with an audible smack.

Some of the Union members slowed down to stare at the spectacle but many didn't bother to stop, their hands already full with work. Concerned, Paula quickly approached the fallen form of Malissa as she winced.

"Well, on the bright side, you only tripped at the end and not on the stairs," Paula quipped in an attempt to lighten the mood. But the moment Malissa glanced up and blinked her vision clear, she quickly snatched the handbag from Paula's arm as if overly possessive of the object. Once in her hands, Malissa frantically examined her handbag, seeming scanning every inch of the exterior for the slightest hint of impostership or defect.

Finally, Malissa calmed down but still hugged the bag tight to her chest. Paula (and by extension several bystanders) could only stare in confusion. "... Um, Malissa? You alright? I'm sure no one has looked inside your bag, let alone touch it before I came along."

Now calm, Malissa got up on her feet while boring an embarrassed smile. "Oh, it's, um, nothing. I just… I just panicked there a little. Er, I guess - me being me - I couldn't help it. Thanks so much, miss Paula, you, um you have _no_ idea how much trouble you saved me!" Malissa then gave a tired laugh which further cemented the image of a clumsy secretary. Then Malissa sighed.

"I, uh... guess I'll call it a day early."

Paula look at Malissa with a concerned eye. "Sure, sure. You look a little tired."

Early dismissal granted, Malissa turned and walked away, yawning. From behind, Paula only stood there, watching her depart. The incident still left her a little confused, but a moment later Paula merely shrugged. Hectic day at work can do a number on one's disposition.

* * *

Down south beneath Conderica, far from its capital and the Four Square Union's headquarters lay a tall, gleaming white spire that stood amongst other similar tall white buildings that populated the skyline of Calipolis, both the capital and the nation in general. Unlike the more industrial landscape and uncomplicated architecture of their northern neighbor, the nation of Calipolis valued scientific progress above all, and their appearances reflected that. Their white towers and skyscrapers, shining with purity and exotic lights, reached high almost to the heavens themselves. And the streets down below even borrowed the aesthetic of curvy white and grey, all lit up by bright white lights that ran almost everywhere as well as from holographic signs and billboards.

But of all towers that stood in Calipolis, one stood out from the rest, its grandeur and size greater than the other skyscrapers next to it - the Calipolis Corlast, the seat of the nation's government. And high up lay a single connecting thread that bridged itself with another stark-white building next to it. It too was bereft of any color other than white and black and near the top lay the white and black icon of a rising sun - the symbol of the Weiss Guild.

Mackenzie discreetly hummed a tune to herself as the moving walkway steadily delivered her to the Weiss Guild headquarters. The skybridge's walls consisted almost entirely of glass, offering her a grandiose view of her nation from up high. The sight of glowing lights that lined up on every spire standing in contrast to the daylight sky was always a lovely sight to her, but in her opinion she liked it more when it was night; the sight of white towers against the dark sky always made for a nice image.

An automated female voice notified Mackenzie that the walkway was nearing its end, and therefore, she had reached the Weiss Guild building. Stepping off, she immediately walked through the exit, the automatic doors swiftly opening without even a whisper. Inside, the halls were practically glowing in white: the floors, walls, ceiling, and even furniture were all white, sporting the occasional small black parts and their own glowing lights.

But what defined the part of the headquarters where Mackenzie stood was the dominating silence. Even with full preparations in full swing for the Festivities, the hallway was rather quiet. This didn't really surprise Mackenzie - everything was rather characteristic of Stef and the organization she led. She's been in this building plenty of times whenever she dropped by, so Mackenzie went straight towards Stef's office.

Another automatic door opened and Mackenzie entered another pristine hallway. As she walked down the passageway, holographic screens popped into existence on the wall as she passed by. They showed the various images that promoted the values of the Weiss Guild: the value and power of technological progress to reach new heights and how the future - and success - of the PC Continent and only the PC Contient depended on it. Like their rival organization, the Weiss Guild didn't really care about what went on elsewhere in Hyper Dimension, so long as the needs of the PC Continent were addressed first. Of course, all of the images were done in a sterile, clean art style typical of the Weiss Guild.

Across the hallway, Mackenzie caught the glimpse of someone strolling by. The mere sight of long silvery twintails was a dead giveaway that she found who she was looking for. Quickening her pace, Mackenzie caught up with Stef.

"Hey Stef, are you real busy right -" Mackenzie's words trailed off as she noticed that Stef continued walking, oblivious to her presence. Another second of observation revealed the existence of small slender pods the size of a finger tip lodged in both of Stef's ears.

' _Oh, I see. She's got those MyPods on. She can't hear me, let alone an incoming truck. Okay...'_

Mackenzie accelerated her pace, coming up right behind Stef. But just before she could try and show up right in front of her face as a playful surprise, Mackenzie found herself the one surprised when Stef unexpectedly turned around. A tinge of annoyance was etched on her face.

"... I'd rather you don't huddle so close to me like that," Stef said as she plucked the wireless headphones from her ears. "It's annoying."

Mackenzie remained undaunted. "Aw, I was hoping I could surprise you this time. You were preoccupied with listening to music and all." Stef merely grumbled. "Anyways," continued Mackenzie, steering to a different topic, "how's work coming along?"

"The usual for special circumstances," Stef bluntly replied as she turned around and continued walking down the hallway. Mackenzie followed. "I've kept close touch with many of the land's elite to ensure their loyalty to the Guild. I've also made sure that the latest products from our industrial allies would be widely available once the Festivities are well underway. With the appropriate marketing, those products should not only be a financial boon for us but also be of a useful way of marketing the organization beliefs."

"New products, huh?" rhetorically asked Mackenzie. She knew Stef preferred the company of the political and financial elite (herself included) but didn't really expect that she had close enough contact to know and influence the consumer market. "You sure this acquaintance of yours would be able to handle the supply of those new products?"

"He's made sure; I've seen to that," Stef replied, barely even looking at Mackenzie. "The same acquaintance has some ties to the manufacturing base in Conderica. We simply have to employ our neighbor's own qualities to our advantage. I have no doubt that my inelegant competitor will not enjoy the irony." And with that, a muffled snicker came from Stef.

Mackenzie, having remained quiet listening to Stef, was indifferent. "Well, either way I look forward to what those new products will be! I heard that the next MyPhone models will come with face-recognition software on top of pre-existing security measures. Anyways, with the Festivities coming right around the corner, I plan on being present in the special event down in Orchard Park where the participants will be to share their ideas and work."

For once, Stef actually turned her eyes towards Mackenzie, along with a raised eyebrow. "You won't be present in the gala that will be held in the Corlast? All the captains of industry will be there to greet the admin."

"Oh, don't worry!" Mackenzie answered with playful certainty. "I did say that I'll be there - just not necessarily be there when it does begin. Just make sure there's plenty of apple cider!"

Stef sighed. "You never stop consuming them, do you?" The two paused as a pair of young women dressed in formal wear that Mackenzie recognized as the uniform of the Weiss Guild passed by them, and upon witnessing two of the most famous people of the country, stopped to wave. Mackenzie energetically returned the gesture while Stef settled with a curt nod before the pair walked off.

Then Stef turned in front of a door as a fingerprint scanner popped out besides it. As she gingerly removed the glove from her right hand, Stef brought to light another topic of discussion. "By the way, about that special event of yours… even if the participants aren't scientists, I certainly look forward to any new innovations they come up with in their projects."

Mackenzie gave Stef an odd but teasing look. "I never took you to be one to look forward to what amounted to a school science fair."

The scanner was busy scanner Stef's thumbprint in three-dimensional space, another product of the nation's technological prowess. "Hm. It is true that nations are built on the back of the people, but it is scientific minds that gives them prestige. That is underlying purpose of the Festivities of Creation; we wouldn't have won the space race if it weren't for it."

"Mm-hm," Mackenzie murmured as the door opened and Stef briskly stepped inside. Right as Mackenzie walked through the doorway was she presented a set of slippers from Stef. "I'll ask you to wear these while you're here; you may switch to your old shoes once you leave. And in the meantime, I'll have to ask that you not touch anything unless I grant permission." And with that done, Stef turned and went further down into her home.

From Mackenzie's perspective, the house rules Stef laid out was getting to be quite unnecessary as she has visited Stef's home plenty of times. She'd known Stef's obsessive desire to make everything squeaky-clean for as long as she known her. It certainly explained Stef's immaculate attire, asocial nature, and the fact she wore her latex gloves practically everywhere she went. Stepping inside, Mackenzie was met with the familiar sight of Stef's wide living room which was also white and smooth as the rest of the building. The leather sofa, the velvet lamps, the coffee table: all white and sleek.

Mackenzie sat down by the table and carefully set down the small bag she had carried with her. Quickly glancing at Stef, Mackenzie found her watching her movements like a hawk, clearly making sure the house rule of "don't touch anything" was held though Stef's inaction told Mackenzie that she was allowed to rest a small bag on the pristine table.

"... It's just some fruit I brought along," bluntly explained Mackenzie. Stef didn't answer as she looked away. Then to no one, she spoke. "Sari: turn up the lights and turn on the television." From somewhere within the room, a single beep was heard and just like what Stef commanded, the living room brightened up. On the empty white wall behind Mackenzie a holographic screen filled it up entirely, displaying a wide variety of information all separated by boxes. On one such box was the local news.

As she glanced at the news, Mackenzie had the feeling it was stuff she already knew. Being the leader of a nation demanded being well-informed, but it was another story when the news was repeating the usual. Stef, meanwhile, paid more attention to the other information displayed on screen: statistics of every aspect of the political machine that was the Weiss Guild, ranging from active attendance, available funds, where organization activities were predicted to be today, and more.

Stef scanned through all of them with a swift but analytical eye. So far, nothing out of the ordinary. Weiss Guild activity are at their highest, yet she expected the levels to be just beneath that of the Four Squares Union. ' _Them and their accursed bleeding-heart dogma...'_ Nearby, Mackenzie quietly (with with due diligence) munched on grapes as she found herself more engrossed in the Weiss Guild statistical data even if she couldn't keep up with them as fast as Stef.

Televised advertising up 149%... Online advertising up 127%... Overall finances… Stef paused as among all the data something more mundane caught her eye. Confined to a small window was an online bulletin board connected to the Weiss Guild headquarters network - a small chat box populated by Weiss Guild members as their own personal social media. In it, something caught Stef's eyes.

 _[uMapple]: Man, it's been the ninth time I've seen one of the WG posters we put up be vandalized.  
_ _[ablo6]: Lemme guess… FSU?  
_ _[uMapple]: Yep. A bunch of their scribbling over our posters. Basically calling us names .  
_ _[MarkiG]: Yeah, sounds like the FSU alright.  
_ _[wyzrx]: Also heard that a couple of em tried to do something same w/ our Conderica branch. Jerks._

Stef frowned at what she read. Direct hostilities via vandalism? With such a moment like the Festivities coming up, increased tensions was the last thing anyone wanted. With anticipation in the air, so were rumors and gossip; and where the latter two are, apprehension followed. Destabilizing influences and actions would only serve to endanger the solidarity of this continent.

Stef frowned. ' _... Just what in Hyper Dimension are you thinking, Paula…?'_

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_

 _ **HistoricHippos:  
**_ **When it came to painting the picture of the PC Continent, one of the questions we asked ourselves (besides "what's over there?" or "what's the PC Continent like?") was "why haven't we heard anything about the PC Continent in the** _ **Neptunia**_ **games?" (outside of Ultra Dimension)**

 **The creation of the political organizations - the Four Squares Union and the Weiss Guild - was an attempt to address why PC Continent-related news and stuff never made it to Gamindustri. The simple explanation we thought of was that the ruling powers of the PC Continent is rather inclusive, focused primarily on internal affairs than external; PC citizens would rather deal with what goes on in their land than what goes on in another. Also, casual prejudice against anything Gamindustri-related (*cough PC master race cough*). The two organizations also represent the computer OSes (Windows and OS X) and how their differences act as a point of contention between them.**


	7. Deal with the Devil

Flashing lights. Clinking glass. An atmosphere alive with talk and debauchery.

The activity within the ground floor casino was just like any day: filled with those who had plenty to lose and staffed with those who would help them accomplish that. Once in a while, for every hundred or so who entered, only one would walk away having gained more than what he or she started. But that was all part of the facade: to convince everyone who came here that maybe, just maybe, they're not a sucker. Every aspect of the wide room comprised of expensive and lavish velvet leather, ornate furniture, grand displays, and gambling everywhere - all built on the backs of those who tried their luck and failed, accomplishing nothing more than enriching the already fat pocket of the building's owner and tempting others to fall into the same trap. The scent of stakes and chances - the odor of smoke, leather, and greed permeated the air.

But as far as Habgier was concerned as she sat on a leather sofa in a private suite, the air smelled natural to her.

She sat silently in the casino she owned, uninterested in participating in the various acts of gambling. She had no intent on walking into her own traps but was very much content in letting others do so. Instead, Habgier sat with one leg crossed over another, wearing her usual stark-black business suit, her equally black fedora slightly tilted forward to shield her icy blue eyes from the light's glare. At best she alleviated the waiting with a glass of scotch in her slender fingers weighed down by numerous rings. In an almost intuitive sense, everyone strayed far from the suite in which she sat - that part suited her just fine.

The casino she sat in actually resided within a behemoth of a building located deep within the commercial sector of Conderica. The one building that stood tall and imposing amongst the other high-rise buildings in the same area thanks to its commanding size and bulk, augmented by its unique nature of having a small amount of open space around the building's pedestal. It was as if the nearby buildings had actively tried to nudge themselves away from this particular one, as many would do against an someone who was infamous or dangerous.

In fact, this particular building was the headquarters of the one and only Habgier Corporation - HabCo. The multibillion-credit corporation of the PC Continent, HabCo made a name for itself in the corporate world, investing in a wide variety of fields. Mining and resource harvesting, technology, communications, and last but not least, the entertainment industry. When it was first founded as a means for which Devs could publish their works and gain Acclaim, the passage of time and success saw the corporation give way to their temptations and corruption. It was those very traits that enabled HabCo rise to the top within a span of several years, their reach in many places now having spread their influence and name (not to mention infamy) far and wide across the PC Continent.

And it was thanks to Habgier, the namesake founder and still-reigning owner, that brought HabCo to where it was now: Exceedingly wealthy, influential, and powerful, but now notorious in the eyes of many, many people. HabCo simply had the perfect tycoon at its helm: ambitious, cunning, opportunistic, unscrupulous, decisive.

And more importantly, ruthless.

And now, here Habgier was, sitting in the secluded part of her own casino reserved for the upper elite, waiting. Waiting for someone. Waiting because a proposal was brought before her and she decided to take the bite since she had some free time.

Habgier rolled up the right sleeve of her suit to glance at her silver wristwatch with an impatient frown. It was nearly time for their expected meeting and after a small incident this month, she was in no mood to wait on someone for more than a minute after their deadline - the last person to do that one too many times was made to simply disappear.

She looked back up in time to see someone enter into the casino, evidently taken aback by the sight and clearly trying to find her contact. A suited staff member approached the person. Unheard dialogue was heard before the newcomer was directed towards where Habgier awaited. Her contact had arrived.

' _Punctual, too,'_ Despite this, Habgier's mood remained cynical. ' _This had better be damn worth it.'_

At last, her contact approached to where she sat, no attempt made to make the guest hospitable. To Habgier, what was the point? She wasn't here to made formalities - only business. More often than not, this might be the first and last time she'll see this person before she moves on to another client.

The guest approached and Habgier studied her with an icy cold stare. This woman was her contact who had something that would be of interest to her. Somehow.

Whatever. Habgier never really bothered to remember her clients unless they were important enough to be remembered in the first place. Only time will tell if this contact of hers is worth it.

The woman stepped up and glanced around at the suite abundant with space but devoid of any occupants save for Habgier. "Should I -"

Habgier cut her off with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Sit," she curtly ordered. The woman simply sat on the closest seat directly across from her. She certainly looked a little nervous; many eyes were on her and it wasn't just the other guests and gamblers.

"Anyways, I suppose I can introduce myself -"

"Spare me the trivialities," interrupted Habgier. "You came here for an offer, not your name. So spit it out."

Her contact seemed a little vexed with the impatience but kept it to herself. Even if she didn't know that many people who directed their complaints towards Habgier tended to be afflicted with… unfortunate events, she knew better than to do so with the look Habgier was giving her. In the shadow provided by the black fedora and her light-blonde bangs that partially obscured her face, Habgier's pale blue eyes seemed to illuminate. Not the stereotypical "glowing red eyes" cliche but it was still a little unsettling nonetheless.

Habgier's contact heaved a tired sigh. "Straight to the point, I see. Alright, we're here because of something you might be interested in..." She reached into her personal bag and under Habgier's close stare that watched even the slightest hint of a treacherous twitch, a large roll of paper was brought out. Unraveling before her, Habgier leaned in to look at what it was.

Whatever she was shown, it was something that she's never seen or heard of before. A drawing of some kind of… tower or something. Habgier reclined back on her seat, eyeing the guest thoroughly as if she was trying to see if the person before her really was a person. "Explain."

The contact cleared her throat. "What you're looking at is a blueprint. A blueprint of a sophisticated device that, to spare you the details, fulfills only one purpose..." Then, making sure Habgier had her full undivided attention (not that her attention was undivided given the way she was staring at her), she continued.

"... the device is capable of tearing open a hole in the fabric of dimensional reality. It's able to open portals to any specific dimension at will."

Brief silence fell as Habgier, for a brief moment, broke her intent gaze away from her contact to study the paper before her once again. The notes, the numbers, the design - everything. A lot of it was foreign to her, but her lack of understanding wouldn't be a major obstacle (that's what hiring professionals and experts to do the thinking are for).

But there was only one real thing that drew Habgier's attention: the ability to create interdimensional portals. Such power was reserved for those with certain gifts; exclusively to someone or something that possessed immense power. As such, only the likes of a goddess could perform such a feat and even then, there was a chance that such goddess might lack sufficient power or knowledge to do it in the first place. There was also the risk of unpredictability and instability - who knows where an errant rift can drop you in and for how long it can remain open. And with such phenomenon so rare as to be treated as a freak accident of nature, interdimensional travel was, without a doubt, very very rare.

But the science was getting there. With each passing moment, the mysteries of the universe were slowly starting to unravel, and with each solved puzzle lay new powers for the modern world to exploit. It was, in Habgier's eyes, always without exception: find something that's unique, and sell the hell out of it. Whether it was a new invention or some new scientific discovery, money always followed. And nothing sold more than being the first place to anything really.

But if there really was a man-made device capable of accomplishing what very, very few could do, and in a very convenient way, that would change everything. Gone would be the days of having the world be confined to a singular dimension; the very key to bring about a _multi_ dimensional world lay right in front of her eyes. The sheer number of implications both explicit and implicit almost made Habgier's head swim with all the possibilities.

This was something Habgier was just looking for.

 _Exactly_ what she was looking for.

She had waited practically an eternity for something like this. Something that no one else has over her. One more power to set HabCo miles above anyone and anything else. Power of a goddess practically within grasp, the power to do whatever the hell she could want in the world. The power to...

… But wait. There had to a trade-off. A risk of some sort. Something to prove that the drawbacks wouldn't outweigh the benefits, especially if this device wouldn't work.

Habgier studied the plans again. It was made with a semi-professional style but scanning through the notes carefully, the thoroughness made her see that it was made by competent hands. Somehow, her gut instinct told her that this device could work, provided it was made to exact specifications (what else are blueprints for?). Sneaking a split-second glance up at her contact - no, _entrepreneur_ \- a small part of Habgier's consciousness questioned whether this person could have thought of this or whether she stole it somewhere as part of corporate espionage.

But whatever. In Habgier's eyes, that was irrelevant.

Habgier strummed her fingers in thought. The proposition before her was becoming more and more enticing by the minute. An interdimensional portal to open up to any dimension to her choosing? And with the chance to grab unclaimed dimensions for herself? The costs to get there might be high, but the rewards should be worth their weight in gold. They should be _damn_ well worth it.

A power that only not even most goddesses could wield. A machine made by mortal hands that could surpass this world's deities. She certainly lacked their divine powers, but that wasn't the only power one could wield in this world. Money and material wealth opened many, many doors...

"Um, however, there's only one thing that the device needs..." The entrepreneur chimed in, bringing Habgier back into focus now that the drawback has been brought up. "The device requires a substantial power source in order to function. It seems that the device was made to function with an abundant amount of a particular crystal in mind. The, uh, notes mentioned 'Crossplay'."

Crystal…  
… Crossplay…  
Crossplay Crystal? As soon as the name sprung up in Habgier's head, it all made sense. Those particular crystals had an innate quality that was believed to be instrumental in interdimensional portals. Something to do with their atomic structure and unique radiant energy signature. But the only problem was getting them - they were quite rare. But rare didn't mean nonexistent.

' _Hmph. Shouldn't be too much of a hurdle,'_ Habgier thought. ' _Finding them will only be a matter of time. And I have plenty of time to spare.'_

Habgier looked up from her thoughts and once again, gave the person in front of her her usual piercing stare. "I know what it is that's needed. After listening through your… spiel, I have considered your proposal." She then reached out to roll up the blueprints. The young entrepreneur took this as a good sign.

The two stood and briskly shook hands - Habgier only did this out of tired formality. It didn't even last a second before Habgier swiftly departed her personal suite without so much as another glance and the entrepreneur took this as a sign to leave, glad to be rid of the smoke-scented atmosphere and the icy-blue eyes.

The plans - her gold prize - secured under her arm, Habgier briskly walked through the open area of the casino, stopping for nothing and no one as she made her way to the elevators, plans and ambitions already swimming in her mind. The day in which her corporation found another reason to leap forward was dawning. After this, there was no way anyone could say no to Habgier: not her "competitors", not goddesses, not a nation, not the PC Continent - hell, the entire Hyper Dimension could fall under her influence given enough time.

She quickly brought up her personal phone punched in a number. "Get all the sub-directors assembled in the boardroom right now, I have something important for them, especially for the mining and research divisions. I want teams from both departments ready to scour this entire continent."

Habgier ended the call, and in the brief quiet of the elevator, the promise of what this interdimensional portal could bring swept all over her mind. The power, the wealth, the prestige… Everything about what she could gain was making her anticipation bubble and boil like an overly-simmering pot. She absently brushed her suit and adjusted her red tie; the high expectations really were starting to get to her, admittedly.

It wasn't just the influence or the fame that made Habgier giddy (though she would never use such word to describe her inner feeling) - it was simply money. No amount of power or goodwill in the world ever disproved a simple truth Habgier held onto: that money was the only thing that made this world go round. Like food, water, and air, money was something that made the nations of Hyper Dimension work and keep people alive and healthy. After all, the only way you could get food on your table was with credits.

Habgier glanced at her watch and remembered what was going on: the Festivities of Creation was right around the corner. The money daydream almost made her forget (almost) but now, Habgier realized another opportunity to pounce on. If this portal scheme was going to win her and her corporation money, there was no harm in making even more during the Festivities. The holiday of pushing out new games and endorsing game development proved time and time again to be lucrative and HabCo's entertainment division would be more than suitable for the task. Hell, if she capitalized on it now, the profit could help compensate for her new pet project.

She brought up her cell phone again but this time, punched in a different number. Not even two seconds passed before the person on the other side picked up. But knowing this person, Habgier wasn't surprised - if anything, she smirked knowing that this was characteristic of her.

"Frost. My office. Now."

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_

 _ **HistoricHippos:  
**_ **Apologies for the slow start with this fanfic. Had a bunch of stuff planned out to set the stage before the ball gets rolling. We're not exactly experienced in writing fan fictions but we hope that it will pay off in the end.**

 **But for now, one of the first villains of the story is formally introduced! Habgier will be among the few made for this story and she'll definitely be one of the most prominent. Expect her and HabCo to be up to no good throughout the story, especially since she is our personification of Electronic Arts (the common image of them anyways).**


	8. Devil's Advocate

Over in the tranquil, placid part of Conderica, the bright noon sky filtered into a musty room with a warm glow, the light rays peeking out onto fuzzy furniture, exposing the lint that hung in the air just as much as the lemon scent.

At the far end of the room, a bed creaked softly as the blanket-covered mass rolled. The occupant's head lifted up from the sheets, her blonde hair fluffy and messy just like her room. Discarded newspaper cutouts and snack wrappers were brushed aside as she stirred.

Kotagon sighed sleepily. The bed was always comfortable, but recently something else had been nagging on her. Something that had been on her mind for a while that, as a freelance journalist and blogger, would simply not do for her: missing out on a good scoop.

' _Hrmm. No one was really aware that there were rats mucking about pirating games - not the mainstream media, not other reporters, not even the freakin' governments! So how on earth did the Devs sniff them out?'_

Restless by the bad mojo, Kotagon slowly crawled out of her comfy bed. Even outside her snug den of her crib, her knitted gray sweater kept a small piece of that comfort - enough to keep her cozy. She tread over and around scraps of paper, post-it notes, and random scribbles. The walls were cluttered even more than the carpet: pinned notes and photographs of mostly random scenes and landmarks - documentation of her career, always on the lookout for a good story.

Kotagon slinked into the worn seat by her personal computer, cup of cocoa in her hand. As she sipped the now-lukewarm drink, she quietly grumbled to herself.

"I still can't believe I missed out on the _perfect_ opportunity for a story…!" Her eyes drifted towards a cut-out of a newspaper article showing the events that went down in Pedissia, where a major video game pirate hideout was found and flushed out after lying secretly under the government's nose for who knows how long. Highlighted in yellow ink, the article headline jumped out in Kotagon's eyes.

 _Dev Team Apprehend Pirate Vermins!_

Devs… Kotagon sighed wearily. ' _Since when did a group of them decide to band together?'_ She racked that one thought in her head like a cement mixer like she had always done. Practically no one could recall the last time the PC Continent goddesses gathered together for anything other than collaborative projects, and even then never several at once!

And why then, of all times? Flipping the article over with a finger, Kotagon peered at another news article.

 _Video Game Pirates Flushed Out in Conderica!_

Kotagon frowned and wiggled her red-framed spectacles in irritation. Again, a potential story snatched under her nose, buried beneath mainstream news, general public unawareness, and her own slacker attitude (not that she'd admit it). And again, the event that - in hindsight - started it all involved at least a couple Devs. And from that point, Kotagon got wind from special sources of hers that it was nothing but Devs. Devs that first revealed the rats, Devs that followed the trail to their dens, Devs that (supposedly) broke into a restricted facility to destroy where the pirates' main base supposedly was before mysteriously breaking up.

And as far as Kotagon was concerned, the whole affair reeked of suspicion.

How in Hyper Dimension did the land's goddesses find out something that most government or law agencies had been unaware of? And again, why did they most of them suddenly band together to fight them? Were they simply bored? Spurred on by their forgotten duty? Coincidence?

Personally, Kotagon preferred her own theory: that they were all in on it. That the so-called vanguards of the PC Continent had conspired and engineered the whole affair so that they could reaffirm their relevance. Mean, come on! Not to beat the dead horse-bird, but why would the continent's goddesses suddenly band together ? Against a threat that practically no one knew? And if they did know, why didn't they let _everyone_ know?

To Kotagon, the signs were clear: the Devs weren't quite the goody-two-shoes that they were made out to be, no way no how (' _Especially if they let freaks like BJ in'_ ). Kotagon glanced at the news website she had pulled up, filled with nothing but stuff about the Festivities. So far, nothing but the same old Devs announcing their latest projects - nothing but the old guard trying to make sure that they remained relevant against the tide of change. In the past year or so, no new Devs have showed up, just a new Prospective Dev here and there.

"Urgh. Devs..." Kotagon quietly grumbled. "I swear, if they're not fixing trouble they're making them." The Devs, as far as anyone knew, weren't quite ancient but the PC Continent had long accepted them as integral parts of society. But their great divine powers didn't come with great responsibilities: rather than use their powers for good and work with the nations' governments, the Devs would instead live as common citizens. And as far as Kotagon was concerned, there was absolutely nothing stopping the goddesses - the divine _vanguards_ \- from abusing or exploiting their powers.

Her eyes drifted over the large bold headlines in the center that were very recent news, proclaiming some Devs' latest projects and their day-by-day reports as they all competed in the gaming arena. At first glance, it was like every other Festivities that was par tradition.

So who knows what else these goddesses got hidden in their proverbial sleeves? If (in her eyes) they could suddenly work together to enact vigilante justice on pirates which may or may not actually exist, then they had the power to be up to something right now. Perhaps they intend to use the celebrations for some insidious plot. Perhaps they plan to make their games smoke-and-mirrors to mask the real problems of the PC Continent. Perhaps their upcoming projects and fame would be used to steer the direction of PC culture wherever they want.

… Perhaps, with the veteran Devs trying to hold onto their long-held reputation, it was time that change win out for once.

Maybe it was time that the Devs, for once, be exposed as the relics they are and step aside in the best interests of the PC Continent.

Kotagon stopped to think. Then, glancing back at the news website, an idea started to form in her mind. Kotagon hastily put aside her cup and began rubbed her hands together as though to wake them up. Now was the time she went back to work - doing what she did best: scour the land and the digital world to inform the public of anything they needed to be told.

She glanced back at her screen and found something she could use: the ongoing progress of each Dev participating in the Festivities of Creation and how well they're faring. And with the recent trend, there was plenty of ammo for Kotagon to use.

She may have missed out her chance of an exclusive story thanks to the Devs. But now, it was thanks to them that she'll make articles about them. To inform everyone that the Devs aren't the paragons that the people made them out to be. That their intentions should be called into question. That this long-held tradition should be tested.

That the PC Continent could use some shaking up from its complacent doldrums.

Kotagon suddenly squirmed in her seat and wrapped her thick cotton sleeves around herself, enjoying the fuzzy feeling both from the outside and the inside. The prospect of revealing a new truth to the public tend to do that to her.

* * *

The grand doors of the entrance opened, a boot stepped inside, and immediately Frost didn't like what was inside.

Everything about what was there made her uncomfortable. The extravagance and debauchery were two of the major things that reminded Frost why she hated casinos, being a trained combatant that respected practicality and frugality. The sight of gambling, dice, chips, and poker only made the feeling worse - they reminded her way too much of that one time Frost indulged in such excess. She shuddered at the awful memory; she learned the hard way that gambling and a touch of alcohol never ever mixed well together.

A uniformed staff glanced at Frost and immediately acknowledged her with a small nod. Frost's cool-blue and gray military fatigues stood out in stark contrast to all the leathery red, yellow air, and well-dressed suitors. It made her feel naked, like an exposed target, but thankfully it made her easily recognizable among HabCo staff as one of their own.

Frost didn't waste a second as she began quickly marching over to the elevators, trying to filter out all the casino around her. Peering eyes would crop up from each table she passed by and although Frost ignored them, they did nudge her to walk a little faster. The sooner she left this crooked den, the better.

Though, personally Frost wasn't sure if her destination was any better.

A quick elevator ride later, Frost resumed her prompt marching. This time, she was in the part of the building that was effectively the complete opposite of the casino: plain, sterile, and strictly business. Yet, as Frost was well aware of, both worlds were more alike than at first glance, being in the same building and all. Even without the cards and smoke, she could still feel the same debauched scent in the air as she passed by windowed offices, meeting rooms, and well-dressed staff.

At last, Frost spotted something that she had been looking for: the rendezvous. In that particular meeting room, of all places; anyone who's worked at HabCo long enough and at a high enough rank know all too well what that room was.

Frost walked up to the door and, after a quick adjustment of the garrison cap she wore, pushed it open and stepped inside. The very first thing she registered in her vision was the lone dark-suited figure leaning back on her seat at the opposite end of the long marble-surfaced table; the white room was completely vacant and dead silent. Knowing this person, Frost wasn't too surprised. Yet she still could never get used to that feeling.

It's that feeling of being alone with someone who you know all too well - and what she could do.

"So you've arrived," Habgier slowly began, not moving an inch from her position. The icy blue eyes seemingly stabbed at Frost but she knew the drill. She stood at attention with her arms behind her back - with Habgier, there was no room for any funny business.

"Came back as soon as I could," Frost reported. Even though the meeting room was devoid of any other people, Frost couldn't help but feel prying eyes on her. Something about this felt off to her.

Habgier leaned forward and motioned towards the laptop that sat by her, the cover emblazoned with a stylized HC, the font as straight and rigid as the corporation it represented.

"You will be well informed that the Festivities of Creation are upon us," Habgier continued. "You know what this means."

Frost gave a simple nod. "Affirmative. Preparations for 'Battlezone V' are near completion and will hit the shelves at all Genesis Stations. Copies will be available for purchase at around 0830 when the stores open as scheduled." Frost paused as Habiger stayed silent, unsure of what the silence meant. Taking a risk, Frost decided to open up a topic she had in mind. "Interrogative: with the current audience reception -"

"Meaningless," Habgier curtly interrupted, snapping her gaze at Frost. "Our consumers can complain all they want about the features and design choices, many more will continue to purchase our product."

Frost looked quizzical. "... But with all of the negative press that surrounded it since its inception -"

"Who gives a damn if it's not historically accurate?!" Habgier snapped, her voice suddenly forceful. "So what if the playable characters of 'Battlezone V' aren't well represented or realistic? Equal representation is what society has been clambering for, but now they suddenly change their mind and lash against it! Consumers don't really know what they want - they'll eat it all up just the same."

Seeing her employer snap like that, Frost decided to take the brief lull as a sign not to press the issue as Habgier glanced back at her monitor, fuming a little. Frost remained silent, quietly fearing that saying other than an affirmation or compliance would lead to potential trouble.

But while Habgier had simmered down, she still wasn't quite done with the topic. "And the battle royale feature has been implemented?" she asked as if daring Frost to answer her incorrectly. "It is abundant that that genre is a successful trend and must be capitalized on."

"Yes, ma'am. The particular game mode has been implemented and working smoothly. It will be available for play along with the base product."

Habgier nodded but seemed unsatisfied. Frost remembered how she was ordered to develop her upcoming project since its inception. Out of nothing but employer loyalty and riding off of previous success, Frost complied with all the conditions set to her next game.

First, the initial reveal of what to expect drew many ire, citing its incredulous premise and presentation. Frost remembered hearing all about it, yet her superior dismissed the reaction. She recalled how Habgier dismissed the critics with blunt retorts, mocking them for their childish display.

And from there, word and reaction continued to be negative and outspoken. Accusations and objections continued to rain, even turning vicious as development continued. And again, despite of and in defiance of the evidence, Habgier continued to ignore them.

Ignored the backlash.  
Ignored the whispers of boycott.  
Ignored the incriminating remarks of being sell-outs, of how they were the festering tumor on the gaming industry.

And like a dutiful soldier, Frost ignored all of it. She _had_ to ignore all of it. Even though she was caught in the crossfire, she had no obligation to abandon her duty to see this through.

Duty was all that mattered to Frost.

The sound of Habgier's laptop slamming shut brought Frost back to the present as she saw her employer recline back on her seat like she had in the beginning, cold blue eyes staring at her.

"Very well. See to the local Genesis Stations tomorrow. I expect promising results during the Festivities. You may leave."

Frost gave a slight nod and turned to leave. But right as she gripped the door handle, the same peculiar feeling resurfaced. Frost quickly glanced left and right, but saw nothing. Habgier was piercing her with her gaze, but there was something else...

Either way, she overstayed her welcome. As Frost stepped out and gently closed the door behind her, she suddenly realized she'd been holding her breath in. She sighed and shook her head, glad she could relax.

Being worrisome wasn't on her job description. It was never on anyone's job description in HabCo.

* * *

Silence fell in the meeting room as Habgier stared blankly at the door, as if peering through the walls to see Frost's departure. And as if she could indeed see Frost through the walls, her eyes slowly drifted to the side before stopping at the corner of the room.

And where there was once an empty corner, a hulking figure clad in purple and dark blue shimmered into existence. As its form materialized into plain view, it was clear that the room wasn't tall enough to fully capture the figure's full height; the corner barely enough to fit his blocky mass and wide shoulders, one of which toted a wide cylindrical tube. His lone red orb-like eye met with Habgier's.

"Your assessment," she curtly demanded.

The purple hulk slowly and methodically came out from the corner he hid, rising as much as he could within the confines of the room. With each step, the floor and his mechanical gears softly creaked under his own weight. Even when not fully upright, the singular red eye gleamed high above Habgier.

"Client Frost has made no covert or overt moves to indicate possible betrayal," the robot noted, the voice monotonous and metallic, "Scans indicated that her vitals fell within normal parameters. Speech pattern analysis came up with similar outcome. Additional scans showed no change in her Acclaim level to warrant a threat. Assessment: Client Frost remains loyal overall; though I have noted her questions as potential sign of minor insubordination."

Habgier stewed on the conclusion before simply shrugging. "No matter," she stated flatly. "Her continued loyalty right now is what's important. So long as she's tied to her… _duty_ , she will continue to serve my interests well." She got up from her seat and strolled towards the door as the robot stood, tracing Habgier's movements. Despite his imposing appearance and size, Habgier showed no concern, let alone acknowledgement of his existence.

The red beacon continued staring, always bright and always aware. "... It would be illogical to not suspect her."

Habgier turned, the pair of icy blue meeting the lone red. If the crimson optic could burn, then Habgier's glare send cold shivers down anyone's spine. "Believe me… she will be suspected. Everyone will be. Frost may be a goddess but her foolish sense of honor will ensure she will continue to be of use to me for quite some time. And when the moment comes…

"... You'll know exactly what to do, Eliminaher."

The robot didn't answer, but Habgier already got her answer. There was no doubt what Eliminaher's answer would've been; he'd been serving by her side long enough for him to adopt a name for himself from all of the dirty work he performed on Habgier's behalf. He had never refused anything Habgier demanded and he wouldn't now. Just like an obedient mutt ignorant of their master's character.

Habgier smirked at the thought. ' _Just like someone I know…'_

* * *

The ornate door creaked open as Habgier stepped through. A nearby grandfather clock struck its bell six times. She's right on time. She took a step, and slipped off her shined shoes to rest alongside a row of identical shoes; another step and the once-empty coat rack became populated with a black suit and fedora as Habgier adjusted her sterile-white undershirt.

Another step forward on the mirror-polished wood floor and the familiar pattering of steps came to greet her.

"W-welcome back, miss Habgier," the meek voice greeted. In front of her, Habgier saw the usual young woman wearing her typical white lab coat which, as far as she could tell, was one size too much for her, her long purple hair reaching past her waist with the occasional black highlights.

"I, uh, take it that business went well today?" The woman spoke with a timid, unsure tone. Her hands were preoccupied being clasped together low on her body, as if unsure what they should be doing other than being idle.

"'Well,' is an understatement," Habgier replied, strolling past without looking at her greeter. "The circumstances are auspicious… and I plan to maximize the benefits. Not that you'll play a key role in it, Alberta." The last sentence came with a small sneer from Habgier.

Alberta could only shrink from the mocking statement and diligently trotted after Habgier to the dining room. Habgier entered the large room that was dominated by a large round surface adorned by the corporation logo and colors, although right now the logo was buried beneath a with a cluttering of dishes and servings that was Habgier's supper along with a bouquet at the very center. A large curtained window lay at the far end, the sunset outside barred from fouling the affluent ambience.

Unlike the austere corporate levels of the HabCo headquarters, Habgier's personal living quarters far above were like a pastiche of mansion squeezed within the confines of the building. Just like the ground floor casino, the quarters were just drowning in fineries: finely-furnished wood, polished surfaces, and furniture all studded with jewelry.

As Habgier approached her seat by the table, Alberta quickly trotted ahead to pull the chair for Habgier to sit. She did, and Alberta dutifully pushed the seat back forward. And in the space of a couple seconds, a pair of utensils and chalice appeared by her side, courtesy of Alberta.

"Tonight's supper consists of hamburg steak prepared to your exact specifications, miss Habgier. To help mitigate the rather rich sodium and carbohydrate content, the side dishes are of a more vegetarian side," she softly reported, standing straight to the side.

Habgier frowned as she digged in, eyeing the contents in front of her. "You worry excessively over health," she griped. "Leave that to dedicated medicine, not to meals that I should enjoy."

Alberta quickly nodded, but she agreed purely out of fear. "I-if you say so, miss Habgier. I'll t-try to keep that in mind next time."

"'Try', Alberta?" Habgier repeated mockingly. Alberta flinched from the cold stare she received. "Rather, you _will_ keep it in mind."

"Y-yes, of course. You're right."

Habgier smirked as she cut up her main course. Then the smirk stretched a little further. Habgier reached for her chalice, only for her fingers to bump into it, causing it and its contents to teeter over the table edge with a crash and an audible gasp from Alberta.

"Oh, oh dear!" she whined, scrambling into action. "I-I'll get the dustpan and towel immediately -"

"Alberta." She stopped where she was and found Habgier staring at her with those eyes of hers. Despite the mess, she was awfully calm about it, and returning her gaze, Alberta got shivers down her spine. "Y-yes?" she timidly asked, half-afraid to know what the answer could be.

"... There's no need for either of those to clean this up. Use your coat."

Alberta blinked, her blank silence the only immediate answer. Her mouth was ajar as she fumbled for a response but Habgier cut her off. "Do it," came the severe demand.

Alberta felt as if the dining room was shrinking around her, threatening to crush her. She looked away, but she could still feel Habgier's gaze. Her itching feet felt like lead weights glued to the floor Slowly, Alberta's hands gripped her lab coat's collar and let it slip off her shoulders, revealing a black scale-patterned shirt.

With a quiet gulp, Alberta slowly approached the mess, bending low by Habgier's side as she went to work sweeping up the spilled drink and broken glass with her once-clean coat. Habgier sneered down at her servant.

"Do you remember why you're here?" she suddenly asked. Alberta froze up. "There was a time when you used to make a name for yourself, by yourself," Habgier continued. "Then you agreed to work for me, to find validation for your talents. Your skills and reputation continued to grow under my corporate wing. But so long as they did, I allowed you to remain.

"Tell me, Alberta..." Suddenly, Alberta felt a tight grip at the back of her head as she found her view softly pulled upward with Habgier's voice now suddenly close to her ear.

"Do you know why you're here? You're here because of your use - your successes. But like anything else, successes are rewarded, failures are not. Failure only demands punishment, lest they continue. Does 'Galaxy Aftermath: Andromeda' ring a bell? It does for me. I know failures when I see one and I am no stranger to disposing them, for the moment they fail they are of little use to me. And when they are of little use..."

Alberta faintly whimpered as Habgier's fingers made a tighter vice. "You should count yourself fortunate that I found another use for you. There were plenty before you that were more… unfortunate that, coincidentally, are no longer around."

Habgier tugged Alberta's ear ever closer. "Now let me ask again: do you know why you're here?" she hissed. A tearful, inaudible murmur was all that could be mustered as an answer.

Then, Alberta was free from the grip, causing her to collapse to the ground. "... Good," Habgier muttered as she sat up straight and resumed her dinner. "Clean up the mess and while you're at it, fetch me another chalice. Your side dishes are making me parched."

Again, her demand was met with another murmur and with due haste, Alberta departed with her sullied coat bundled in her arms. Habgier watched as she fled around the corner to the kitchen, mildly amused at the sight and the implications.

To think that she, a successful businesswoman, could not only be head of an affluent corporation with its reach far and wide throughout the land but wield enough power and influence to bring two of its goddesses at her employment - and mercy: Frost and Alberta. Powerful and divine they may be, being Devs, yet it all paled compared to Habgier. She, lacking innate powers of her own, confined to the laws of mortal people, could make beings that are supposed to be powerful cow before her. Poor Alberta was proof of that.

What good were their special powers and abilities that made them special if they let themselves be subservient to ordinary people? What good was their status? Devs were about as old as the PC Continent itself, ancient tradition still alive in the modern, changing world. In Habgier's eyes, that perfectly describes a relic - something that refused to accept their flaws or obsolescence. And now, their powers meant little.

And as Habgier mentally pictured what her latest ambition would look like, tearing the very fabrics of reality open to new worlds and new opportunities, she knew it was only a matter of time before these goddesses would truly become relics.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_

 _ **HistoricHippos:  
**_ **A familiar face (if you've read the first story) alongside new ones! As the Devs are based on certain video game companies, you could probably already guess what Alberta represents based on Habgier's dialogue. And speaking of Habgier, while she represents Electronic Arts, she's a little more representative of its greed and corporate practices whereas Eliminaher represents EA's tendency to kill off companies that have worked with them.**

 **On the topic of Eliminaher, him being a robot was based on certain Neptunia characters, namely Steamax and Affimojas from** _ **Neptunia VII**_ **. To set him apart from those two, Eliminaher will be far less affable and personable, being cold and more ruthless; he's a dedicated combat robot after all. Appearance-wise, Eliminaher will resemble a cross between Soundwave and Shockwave from G1 Transformers, with a similar personality to match.**

 **Some meta stuff: another chapter was originally meant to appear before this that involved Bell and Cog returning from their lunch to find wild monsters loitering near** _ **The Pipe Dream**_ **, and that the two of them would fight them off to reintroduce the pair's fighting styles and abilities. Unfortunately, the event was omitted as I felt that it would've dragged on the story a little longer than necessary before the main plot could actually begin. To add insult to injury, I also felt that that chapter wouldn't have added much to the story overall.**


	9. First Cracks

Bell stepped out from her bathroom, damp and steamed from a refreshing hot shower. She sauntered to the living room couch, fumbling with a hair tie. She fell on top of the couch with a rough thud, eliciting a weary sigh from Bell. It had been another busy day of game sales and even after that lunch break with Cog, she still felt tired to her bones. Or maybe it was because of that lunch break that she felt lethargic.

The day's rush hour had long subsided, the tide of customers mostly having returned home, likely busy enjoying their newest merchandise or whatever. Cog had long gone back to her home, so Bell was back to being alone. The absence of loud chatter had made things real quiet, but without Cog around to fill the mood with her immaturity and childish antics, the silence was quite… empty.

Well, whatever. It was evening, and Bell had a moment to rest before another day of the same hustling and bustling would begin and Cog would come back to hang out like normal. Reaching to the table, which was still cluttered with trash, Bell dug out the remote and turned on the TV, being greeted to a news channel and whatever newsworthy was going on.

"... and in the past several hours, the number of reported incidents between the Four Squares Union and the Weiss Guild has severely increased. Vandalism and social attacks have been common occurrences, with both sides seemingly taking liberal potshots at each other throughout the PC mainland."

Bell rolled her eyes as she sank further into the cushion which reflected her overall interest. ' _What does the news think we've been doing, living under a rock? Take two opposing ideologies and of course stuff like that'll happen.'_

The newscast continued. "With the Festivities right about to begin, piracy seems to be on the rise! Many gamers, desperate for entertainment but short on cash and options, appear to be turning to piracy to obtain their games. Already indie developers - already at the mercy of existing entertainment juggernauts - are competing fiercely with those who sell have the qualms to undersell and engage in illegal distribution."

Bell's shoulders slumped as she sighed. ' _Dammit. Not again… I don't want to deal with any more video game pirates that somehow have immense resources, hundreds of henchmen, and secret bases all over the place! Oh, I so want to get off Mr. Pirate's Wild Ride.'_

"... With little information to go on about the resurgence of video game pirates, experts believe that the so-called 'Bumble Club' is a likely culprit."

Upon hearing the name of the underground group that she once stumbled upon, Bell suddenly sat up, eyes and ears open.

"... the identities of the video game pirates have yet to be identified which leaves scant information, but based on what is known, law officials point to the Bumble Club, the enigmatic distributor of games and gaming merchandise. Known for their secrecy and selling items at prices independent from those of established stores, those characteristics lead officials to believe that they are behind the rise of video game piracy. More news after these commercials."

Bell continued staring at the TV, but no words from it reached her ears. She blinked in confusion at what she heard, staring blankly as she tried to interpret the news she just heard. ' _The Bumble Club… being video game pirates? That's not how I'd see them. Or at least, from what little I know of them from that one time I met them.'_ Vague memories of the previous adventure filtered in Bell's mind as she reminisced. That time she and Cog first encountered video game pirates in the form of rats, encountering the stranger Nitroplus who helped them out, then a member of the Bumble Club who appeared out of nowhere to help them escape the scene. After sharing what they knew, they were let go.

' _Yeah… What were their names again? Code names, but what were they? J-something.'_ Bell frowned as she mentally reviewed what she knew of the organization. Secretive and suspicious as they were, she didn't think of them as criminals. Heck, she never personally saw them as a genuine competitor; undersell and make bargains they may but their very nature wouldn't bring too many customers.

No… something about that statement wasn't right. Bell remembered the two particular members of the Bumble Club from last time. There's just no way they could be responsible for outright crime unless there was a major leadership change in the organization and they changed gears. Or…

"Ugh. I'm probably just thinking too much into this..." Bell quietly muttered, slowly rising from the couch. She stepped over to the kitchen, thinking of getting a quick drink until her eyes drifted to the clock.

"9 o'clock already?" Bell groaned as she quickly but grudgingly changed course and started heading down the stairs. The steady sounds of her feet meeting the steps slightly echoes down the staircase, and as Bell reached the ground floor, it was the only sound that was being made. Stepping inside her store, the establishment was about as quiet as a whisper. Taking a quick glance around the store, Bell immediately spotted Adjunct silently and dutifully restocking merchandise, moving about thanks to the ceiling rails from which it hung from.

' _Oh, so it's just it - '_ No, not quite. Glancing around again, Bell spotted a few scattering of customers loitering around her store, some of whom Bell could only see the tops of their head from behind the aisles.

' _Huh. Some real late stragglers.'_ The few people she saw simply browsed the items, searching through them as if to find something and occasionally examining them. Bell could barely see their faces which made her think they were that invested in their shopping, but for all their browsing they seemingly couldn't commit to a purchase. Barely a whisper could be heard in the entire place.

Whatever. It was nearing time. Bell cleared her throat, hoping to catch everyone's attention while being hushed at the same time; Bell hated breaking the ice. "Uh, hey. Store'll be closing real soon, so better make up your mind now or leave. I need to lock the place up for the night."

The only major reaction came from Adjunct who swung around to acknowledge Bell's announcement a stare from its single eye. "Very well. If you had coded into me it would certainly be executed. But of course, I shall take my time doing so. Today's stock has depleted faster than our customers-slash-victims' bank accounts. An extra pair of hands would certainly expedite my current task, but feel free to stand idly by. It's not like I am explicitly in need of assistance."

"Yeah, yeah. I get the idea..." Bell walked past Adjunct and towards the back room. Unlocking the door, she stepped inside and lifted a cardboard box out of many stacked by the door. Bell shuffled the bulk to one of the many near-empty aisles whose contents now consisted of empty space. Setting the box down, Bell went to work sorting out the items.

One of the late-night customers stood idly nearby where Bell was, his dark hoodie obscuring his face. Out of the corner of her vision, Bell had a strange feeling about him. Something about the way he was standing there just browsing… or looking like he's browsing. Another customer - also wearing a hood - quietly walked up to his side and despite there being two of them, there was barely a hush between them.

A soft shuffling sound from the other side made Bell notice another pair of awfully silent guests approaching the aisle from opposite end.

Bell started having a very bad feeling about this.

Bell glanced to the other side and suddenly found herself staring down a muzzle, courtesy of the a customer who was now right in front of her. "Don't move. This is a stick-up!" a muffled young voice hissed out. Glancing up, Bell finally had a good view of the "customer" and saw his actual face obscured by a hastily-applied handkerchief. Turning, Bell saw that she was surrounded by other "customers" whose identities were also masked.

"Get up!" the same man hissed, tossing in a small light kick for good measure. Grumbling, Bell complied under the glare of the robber's gun. At the same man's hushed command, one of his accomplices quickly snatched up the box of goodies while another messily gathered up the merchandise.

"Get the goodies loaded up, hurry!" The robber, presumably the one calling the shots, gently prodded Bell with his gun. "Git going!"

Despite the danger she found herself in, Bell nonchalantly did as she was told as the rest escorted right behind her, the metal rod frequently prodding her in the back as she walked down the aisle. "Suuuure. Are you interested in a particular product that you need help finding?"

Once clear of the aisle, a forceful hand shoved Bell in another direction to head. "Shaddup!"

"Bell?" Adjunct's white head poked around the aisle ahead. "Audio receptors seem to indicate a very uncharacteristic amount of… Oh."

"Yeah, thought so!" taunted the lead robber as he wiggled his gun at Adjunct. "You and the lady stand right where we can see ya!" More robbers and their brandished weapons suddenly appeared behind Adjunct. Surrounded, Bell and Adjunct were herded to a corner as the robbers went to work. With two of their own guarding the hostages, the rest scattered throughout the store, stuffing what merchandise remained in their personal bags or even their pockets. One of the robbers climbed over the front counter to investigate the register.

He rattled the register, trying to force it open but to no avail against the lock. Grunting, he looked towards the leader. "Hey, boss! This crummy thing won't open - I think it's locked!"

"Well, yeah that's because it is," Bell replied out loud. All eyes swung in her direction. Despite the circumstances, there was no tinge of fear or concern in Bell, instead there being a cool, if not seemingly bored, look on her face as she stood where she was hands in her pockets.

The entire theft paused as the lead robber marched over to Bell. Shoving past two of his own, he grabbed Bell by the collar of her shirt, bringing himself face-to-face with her. "Lady, you got 10 seconds to tell us how to open that cash register or else -"

"Yeah yeah, or else someone's gonna get hurt," Bell finished dismissively, which only seemed to rile up the crook further. Frankly, Bell was more annoyed by the lack of personal space being respected (since she could smell his breath; could probably use some mouthwash...) and the poor timing (being late at night and when she should be closing up shop).

Oh, and the fact that her store was being robbed and her being held at gunpoint - that too.

The gruff pair of hands tightened their grip. "Well?! What's the code -"

"It's not a code," interrupted Bell, irked by how she was being shook. "That's a little too obvious. What you need to look for is a button. It should be near the very bottom of the counter, beneath the register."

The lead robber's enmity instantly evaporated as his head spun to his accomplice who had tried to break into the cash register with an expectant look. Having caught wind of the information, he bent low scouring for the button Bell mentioned, searching lower and lower until he found a peculiar protrusion underneath the furniture.

"Uhhh, I think I found it!"

"Yep. That'll open up not just the cash register but also a hidden vault where I keep my savings," Bell added, bored. "If you think about it, you're probably a lot better off making off with the credits than with stolen merchandise."

Upon hearing this, the other bandits began whispering amongst themselves, their tones hushed but brimming with anticipation; some even went so far as to toss out looted items. But despite the promises, the leader shot Bell a dirty look. "You best not be pulling our legs here, 'cuz otherwise -"

 _*Click!*_

His eyes - and everyone else's - darted back to the register section as his companion went for the hidden button. But as he leapt up to anticipate his reward, there instead was a clunking sound above his head. Looking up, he was instead rewarded with the sight of a gaping barrel - courtesy of a ceiling-mounted turret gun.

"... WHAT THE -"

The robber's train of thought didn't go far as a barrage pelted him, his words and disbelief replaced with hysterical squeals. As if on cue, identical contraptions popped from various parts of the ceiling, swiftly noticing and targeting the robbers beneath them with mechanical efficiency.

The leader's eyes were as wide as dinner plates as he realized he was played. He spun back to Bell, vengeance clouding his mind. "Oh, you SON OF A -"

 _*Clang!*_ Without another word, his face suddenly met earth hard. Surprised to see his leader suddenly on the ground, another robber mimicked his boss's action of turning to Bell but just like him, fell victim to a hard whack of a crowbar now in Bell's hands. From the vestiges of his conscious mind, the sight of the now-armed Bell gave the crook leader a sudden epiphany.

The inside of _The Pipe Dream_ became tumultuous, the sounds of yelps, surprise, and mechanical whirrs of moving mechanical parts and cannonfire as the would-be robbers were pelt by a hail of stinging rubber rounds. Panicked, the intruders stumbled blindly, tripping over their own feet or each other in a desperate attempt to flee the scene. One of the underling robbers bold enough to brave the barrage and hold a coherent thought attempted to retaliate as he fumbled for his concealed bat.

Risking a peek upward, he found the nearest of the ceiling turrets preoccupied and braced to strike until a swift, sharp impact swept his feet off the ground. Without a second to recover, another strike, more impactful than the last, sent him tumbling across the aisle.

Bell stepped gingerly over her own spilled merchandise as she adjusted the grip on her crowbar. The once-audacious crook found his mettle completely evaporated as the bat slipped from his hands as he tried to crawl away in vain hope that the defense wouldn't notice him. A dark flowing shape appeared in the fringes of Bell's vision: another one of the robbers making a mad attempt to fight back. He dashed towards Bell, clenched fists raised until a white blur sideswiped him, the sound of sliding metal being the only forewarning as he flew out through the front entrance like a ragdoll.

"Speedy thing goes in, speedy thing goes out," quipped Adjunct as it reached low and picked up one of the robber's discarded bludgeons and bent it like rubber before tossing it away to face the rest. By now, everyone was trying to make a mad dash through the door to escape, to flee from the stinging rubber pellets. Death was certainly not a risk, but the sharp sensations of rapid-fire pellets was enough to put the robbers in risk of the second worst thing.

They all flooded out through the door, pushing and shoving anything to expedite their way out: the doorframe, the door, the merchandise stands, or even each other. Screeching and hollering, those who made it out into the dark night outdoors scrambled to their getaway truck. One of the robbers made it to the truck last, but not before sneaking one last look behind him to see Bell right by the store entrance.

The crook leader pointed at Bell accusingly and opened his mouth, but no words could come to mind other than unintelligible insults and jeering as the truth became evident to his eyes - the absurd security measure, the way she fought... He would have continued trying to think of something meaningful to hurl at Bell if it weren't for the aforementioned Dev tossing out a bulky metal box out of thin air. Upon hitting the ground, the sides of the box popped open and in its place a series of gears and machinery swirled into shape, whirring and clanking into shape.

At the bottom was a wide flat pedestal that held up everything above via invisible force that bound the device together. The mass that served as the "head" morphed from a single box-like structure into two, each with thick rotary barrels that quickly sprouted from them. And to finalize the transformation, the back end of the two arm-like structures popped up to reveal nestling rockets within. The end product - Bell's crimson-plated turret - resulted in it being bigger than the box it came from in the first place.

At this sight, the bandit leader finally lost the last reserves of his courage and finally scurried onto the back of the truck which promptly sped away at full speed, leaving only the sounds of squealing tires, tire marks, and Bell as the only evidence that anything ever happened in the late night.

As she watched the truck disappear into the dark nothingness, Bell could only sigh. Her shoulders loosened knowing that the scuffle was over, but she didn't feel relaxed. "Argh… Why of all times did something like that have to happen?" Bell sighed. With a light tap of her foot her sentry immediately folded back on itself into nothingness, and without further ado turned and headed back inside her store.

Stepping back into inside, Bell could only survey at the mess: game boxes scattered to and fro across the ground, light structural damage, and knowledge of today's events. Adjunct was already hard at work sweeping up the spilled merchandise. The ceiling turrets still remained, aimlessly scanning the interior for targets that Bell hoped weren't coming back. She didn't care if they were regular customers in disguise - anyone foolish enough to try to rob from a Dev wasn't worth it.

Bell sighed deeply. Moments like this were possible (and of course Bell made suitable precaution) but that didn't mean they needed to happen!

' _Ugh. Just look at the mess! This'll take me at least an hour to put everything back together!'_ Bell silently fumed as she glanced around again, trying to come to a decision. ' _Aw screw it. Guess I can do some of it today, then finish it tomorrow before rush hour.'_ Bell took a step only for her foot to unexpectedly step on something. Looking down, she saw that it was a game box, its plastic case and wrapping dented and scratched, marring its once fresh quality. Stopping to crouch down, Bell could see other games scattered across the floor sharing the similar sorry condition.

Picking one up, Bell couldn't help but feel sorry for it - to see something that was supposed to bring joy to have its exterior tarnished, its value brought down to something only a little above trash. Bell examined the cover front and back; she could probably still sell it, but she doubt its damaged state would warrant a high a value as it would.

She thought back to the entire scene, rewinding the series of events in her head. A group of young people willing to commit an ambitious plan such as this, to steal games in such a time like this. Even if it was at night with minimal witnesses, such a direct scheme to steal games was absurd with who knows how many game stores - her's included - selling their products at a low price. A period in which gaming was celebrated and a bunch of people choose now to rob one.

Bell could only shake her head at the illogical circumstances. ' _Just what did they plan to do with all the games they would've stolen? I'm already selling a good chunk of them dirt cheap. Unless they plan to -'_

Then she stopped. As quickly as she turned down the thought, the conclusion jumped on its own from one to another.

" _With the Festivities right about to begin, piracy seems to be on the rise! Many gamers, desperate for entertainment but short on cash and options, appear to be turning to piracy to obtain their games._ "  
" _... the identities of the video game pirates have yet to be identified which leaves scant information..._ "  
" _... With little information to go on about the resurgence of video game pirates, experts believe that the so-called 'Bumble Club' is a likely culprit._ "

With the recent news repeating in her recent memory, Bell retreated into deep thought. There was no way it was a coincidence: crime and video game piracy are definitely around. The group of robbers making their move in her store was proof of that: they were originally here for the games, hoping that their numbers and timing would suffice against any ordinary shop owner (fortunately, she was no ordinary shop owner).

But if they were part of the rising movement, then there was no way that the Bumble Club could be involved. Those robbers were just run-of-the-mill burglars; there was no way they were on the same level as the more secretive but affable Bumble Club (for starters, the ones she fought off were too idiotic).

Bell stood up. "Adjunct, you mind taking care of all of this? I'd pitch in a bit, but I've got busy plans tomorrow."

Her robotic assistant raised a curious stare at Bell as she sauntered to the stairways without a backward glance. Bell turned the corner and disappeared from view, leaving behind Adjunct alone with the mess: the floor sprinkled with spilled items, smears, and carpeted by loose rubber projectiles; the narrow displays that once stood organized now had some out of alignment or had been knocked over; the handful of turret guns hanging from the ceiling still remained as their methodical sweeps ruined any further semblance that this was a store.

"... Of course, I shall see to carefully and diligently sweeping up the multitudes of misplaced items, rearrange the store furniture, withdraw the defense mechanism that you insisted would suffice despite my recommendations of installing more compelling deterrents such as neurotoxin generators, and last but not least, lock the front entrance and turn off the lights."

Adjunct began her long task as it lowered down to grab the dozens and dozens of merchandise, a process not helped by the fact its arms weren't quite suited to carrying anymore than what it could hold with its own two hands.

"But then again, you never explicitly mentioned _when_ the tasks should be finished..."

* * *

Upstairs, Bell paced about in her bedroom, thoughts and plans clouding any weariness she once had. Normally she'd be asleep, but something else kept her occupied.

' _There's no way that those would-be pirates were related to the Bumble Club,'_ Bell repeated. ' _But that doesn't take away the fact that there's someone out there pirating games. And if this is going to be anything like last time...'_ Bell shuddered as memories resurfaced. ' _... It'll be the Bumble Club who'll know what's up. If I remember, having tabs on secretive stuff would be up in their alley; takes one to know one after all. And being falsely accused for being the perpetrators will certainly give them motive for getting to the bottom of this._

' _Normally… I'd rather stay out of this. Knowing how things go, a simple "investigation" will turn into a wild-goose chase where I get more than what I bargained. And then I'll question just what the hell I was thinking. But as much as I'd like to remain by the sidelines, I just had people try to rob my store and hold me at gunpoint! I'd would certainly like to get my hands on whoever's responsible!'_

Bell sighed as she flopped on her bedsheets. ' _... I'll make sure to call Cog tomorrow. I'll see if I can find the Bumble Club and get some answers. Hopefully this doesn't quickly get out of hand (probably already jinxed myself by saying that)...'_

As sleep finally began to creep in, Bell sighed again as she wrapped the blankets around her, recent events being summarized in her head. ' _... Why does it look like the world's trying to come to an end?'_

* * *

Halfway on the other side of the dimension, the world was indeed trying to come to an end.

The slow but imminent destruction of the world she despised was now in full motion. The next step of her plot had already been enacted and the results were immediate - exhilarating. She watched with amusement as the next stage of her plan played out.

It had only been a few days, but what she saw pleased her. She had always envisioned what a world without the shackles of goddesses would look like, to see what it would be like if they never existed. And now those particular goddesses were stumbling about, blind in the world they recognized but in a world that did not recognize them.

She watched as the CPU of Planeptune, once cherished and loved in spite of her flaws, be neglected in favor of a miser who, despite exuding passion and spirit, hid a meek and cowardly heart.  
She watched as the CPU of Lastation, the pride and heart of her nation, be hounded like a dog by the very nation she helped build and lead, its very soul - like its new leader - twisted for nefarious means.  
She watched as the CPU of Lowee, who once called her country home, discovered it to now be a foreign world with no one being who they truly said they were...  
She watched as the CPU of Leanbox, for all her grace and elegance, be reduced to a commoner under the reign of one so self-serving she would sacrifice the nation and its people for her own sake…

The goddesses - all of them - predictably trying to deduce the truth. The truth that she herself had experienced, and one that they would now experience themselves. Or at least, a mere taste. Have the goddesses learn their place before their world would be drowned in chaos.

Speaking of which…

Her pawns… The so-called AffimaX. Minions such as them had their uses. But oh they're so gullible and thoughtless. No doubt they'd keep the CPUs preoccupied while they claim her prize. It was a key part of her scheme, it was essential that she get her hands on it.

And if - not _when_ \- she did, her victory will not be denied.


	10. Schwarze

Next morning was as loud and buzzing as ever as the streets in Conderica were filled with activity and talk. The next day of the Festivities was well underway as people commuted to and fro in droves. No doubt many were making their way to the shops and stores that lined every block of the city, enabling the places of gaming to be nexuses of society. Today, a majority of society was summed up into three categories: those who wished to satiate their hunger for gaming, those who were willing to satiate that hunger with their services and fruits of labor, and those who in both. But no matter if consumer or producer, everyone was in high spirits.

But within a cafe sitting snugly along the downtown street, a certain Dev was in anything but in high spirits.

Weaver let her head fall to the table with an audible thud, a sigh escaping from her lips as air would from a deflating tire. "... Why oh why did I ever bother…?" Unlike the semi-formal attire she wore back when she last contacted Bell, Weaver was back to wearing her usual clothes: a black hoodie jacket embroidered with intricate silver lines that vaguely took shape of a dragon and light-blue jeans. A dull metal-gray device was wrapped snugly around her left wrist, a faded screen housed within its bulky frame.

"'Why?' Last I remember, the whole gig was your idea," BJ bluntly pointed out as she gulped her entire drink in one swig, capping it off with rough impact of the cup hitting table and a burp. The collars of her rugged leather jacket sprinkled with loose droplets and crumbs. Though unmarred by her messy eating habits, BJ's white-gray hair remained spiky and unkempt which further contributed to her barbarous image. "Hrm, I don't remember my ham sandwich being this rough. Or dry. Or tasteless."

Weaver jerked her head up. "Ow! BJ, that's my sidetail you're trying to eat!" Weaver yanked her dark-brown strands out of BJ's munching mouth with a wince. "Dammit, BJ! Is there ever a time you're _not_ making a mess?! First, you made that mess back at the convention in which you intruded the dining hall and tried to forcibly make the roasted chicken and turkey your hand-puppets for your so-called 'Poultry Puppet Pals', then you snuck off to write 'Potty Mouth' on all the toilet seats as some dumb joke, then you had the audacity to do the moonwalk on stage whenever one of the presenters mentioned her theme of outer space in her upcoming book, and _then_ \- to cap it all off - you were dumb enough to make inappropriate moves on the hostess!"

"Hey," BJ objected with a smug look, a toothy small grin on her face, "fine booties are fine booties no matter how you shake it. Pun intended."

Weaver sank her face in her hands as another heavy sigh escaped from her lips. "... And _somehow_ , your upcoming project got a standing ovation over mine!"

BJ raised her hands to her side. "Hey, don't look at me. I was just doing my thing, doing what I do best!"

Weaver heaved another sigh. "'Best' my ass. After all that work I did teasing my new project I was really hoping it would be good. Maybe decent if I had to go for the low-hanging fruit." She sighed again before trying to drown out her immense dissatisfaction with an aggressive swig of the drink she ordered.

A third person sitting by Weaver shifted in her seat, having watched the whole scene. "So, uh, I take it that it was that awful, huh?"

Weaver spared a quick glance at the third person, remembering that she had called and invited her today. "You have no idea, Schwarze. I admit that some of my projects - literature or not - tend to be varying degrees of hit or miss, but today… I don't recall missing this badly..."

Schwarze leaned back on her seat, resting her head in her hands, one of which was covered in light-brown leather glove. Her shoulder-length hair shone brightly with its fiery-red pigment like her eyes, the bangs and strands flowing straight and free like a bonfire; the only attempt made to seemingly restrain the color's exuberance was how her front bangs split aside revealing Schwarze's forehead. She was dressed in her jet-black leather trench coat with a white undershirt peeking out from underneath. Combined with her brown trousers and tall slim leather boots, Schwarze carried a cowboy-like air; the kind who would drift wherever their heart or circumstances told them to.

And it just so happens that Schwarze was traveling around the PC Continent until Weaver contacted her. Of all the Devs that Schwarze known and worked alongside with as one of the land's established Prospective Devs, Weaver was among those she knew the most. Schwarze, like all of the other Prospective Devs, were goddesses but lacked the power and recognition of their greater counterparts. At least, not until they accumulated enough Acclaim to earn the title of "Dev."

"I see. So is there anything I could do for you?"

Weaver took another, more calm, sip. And about as quick as a switch being flicked, she seemed to have calm down a bit. She turned in her chair to give Schwarze her full attention. "You remember the last time you made a game that was part of my franchise? 'Atomic Aftermath: New Wegas' it was called? Even though it's been years since release, it still managed to get a persistent, stable audience and reception."

Schwarze smiled to herself as she remembered. Gently rocking her chair back and forth, she recalled how she got a chance to work with Weaver to make a spin-off bearing her franchise brand name. The circumstances had been far from ideal and she had mere months to put together a comprehensive product, and while it was far from flawless, Schwarze couldn't help but smile at how she managed to pull it off.

"Well… there's admittedly not much to work on since you should know the basics; I've read your books and played your games along with everyone else's. I can't really put it into words, but I think what you could try to improve upon are the finer details. They're small, but you know what the saying: 'the devil's in the details'."

"Uh-huh," Weaver muttered as her focus was no longer on Schwarze but rather on her wrist computer as she went to work jotting down notes. As Schwarze droned on, trying to come up with anything from her personal experience that could help out Weaver, BJ tried to amuse herself. After absentmindedly brushing her leftover scraps around in whatever conceivable shape she could think of, trying to play "Spin the Bottle" with her empty cup (with everyone in the cafe as unwitting and unaware players), and even bending her metal spoon, BJ set her sights on the prominent fish tank that, while humble, decorated the small-time cafe. It took center stage on the countertop, its view unimpeded by furniture or the cafe's layout. And to top it all off, the tank had an open roof.

By impulse (like a lot of things), BJ eyed the open fish tank with a rapacious look as she quickly scrunched some loose greased napkins. And as she raised the clump to prepare a throw -  
A slender metallic form immediately snaked around BJ, constricting her as the clump slipped from her toughened fingers. Surprised - but more annoyed - BJ merely groaned aloud. "Oh c'mon Weaver!"

Weaver only gave her a warning glare as she held her sword aloft, the blade having been morphed in both shape and composition to ensnare BJ from another one of her shenanigans. "There's a huge huge reason why I gotta keep an eye on you! It's bad enough that you trash my Castle Wolf (so long as you help pay the bills) and that you make a mess wherever we tend to go. Need I remind you your laundry list of misdemeanors officially recognized by most officials?"

"Meh. What I was about to do would've been a piss in a bucket by comparison," grunted BJ, nary any fear in her voice or posture. "I can't imagine my antics being any worse than what I've done in the past. Sue me, dickhead!"

Schwarze chuckled lightly, eliciting a stern glance from Weaver. "You haven't changed one bit, have you BJ? Say, didn't the two of get involved in something a while back?"

With the change in topic, Weaver slackened her shoulders. "Yep. Long story short, I came across this stranger that roped Bell and Cog into tracking down a bunch of rats, which funnily enough was part of a quest I was doing in my spare time. The stranger was an odd sort, being a Cape-head and all, but I decided to stick around 'cause I was wanted to find something to write about."

As if a piece of Weaver's sentiment, the coils had slackened enough for BJ to wiggled free from. "Yeah! Toured the continent, saw funny stuff, killed shit; couldn't ask for more than that. Especially near the end where we all went up against freakin' robots and whatnot! But _thennnn_ , freakin' Weaver wouldn't let me go after 'em since -"

"Since you have a felony list that's longer than some novels, BJ!" interrupted Weaver. "Having you set foot on another continent just to pursue video game pirates is a _huge_ no-no!"

"Another continent? You mean that place?" inquired Schwarze who leaned in, interested. "I wouldn't have expected these pirates to go that far. Guess they really wanted to get away from BJ here."

"Damn straight!" exclaimed BJ before a quick slap to her mouth shut her up. Unfortunately, plenty of curious and irritable eyes were already cast in their direction. The world inside seemed to have come to a near standstill as the goddess trio found themselves now in the center of the cafe universe. With the stares came the faint tones of whispers; many of which Weaver felt was directed at her. Memories of the… not-so-well reception from earlier flashed in her eyes. It hasn't been long for the news to disseminate, but they had a nasty tendency to spread fast.

Weaver let her shoulders sag under the weight of awkward stares. "... I think we overstayed our welcome," she quietly muttered.

* * *

The cafe door jingled for the third time. "So uh, what next?" Schwarze asked.

Weaver glanced around at the busy city street. Anyone not foolish enough to stand still in the open wisely clung to the sides close to the buildings to prevent being swept up by the crowd. The city's arteries remained thick and busy. Everything was in motion; everything was in activity.

In the front, parked by the curb lay a stylish convertible, its black exterior antiquated yet polished to a near-mirror sheam, rounded eye-like headlights, a stout snout-like front section, and the magenta leather seats open to viewing thanks to the retracted roof. Everything about its appearance spoke of an old-fashioned yet enduring charm.

Weaver twirled the keys, but without a hint of enthusiasm. "Well, the day's still young, but I think I'm headed home; I could use a good break, though I'm pretty sure it's gonna be short-lived... You're free to come along, Schwarze."

Schwarze's face lit up. "Oh! Sure!" As Weaver strode to the driver's side, Schwarze eagerly trotted to the other side, followed by BJ. Swinging the backdoor open, BJ dived in and flopped prone on the passenger seat. "... Close the door and wake me up once we arrive in time to catch that wrestling program on TV, alright?"

"BJ, you-!" Weaver sighed in defeat. She motioned for Schwarze to occupy the front seat. "Whatever. While you're here, do you mind helping me out a bit longer?"

"Sure. Why not?" replied Schwarze, testing out the luxurious comfort of the seat. With a routine swift turn of the keys, the convertible's engine sputtered to life and without ado, Weaver pulled into the Conderican city traffic, being guided back home thanks to her wrist computer.

With a smooth lurch, the convertible wiggled its way out of the spot and began rolling down the streets. Through the window, the urban scenery flashed past: shops, stores, and other public spaces loaded with passerbys, all of whom were eager to spend the holidays with their time and wallets. The city spaces were not only bustling with pedestrians and vehicles but holiday decor. Posters lined along the streets at eye level while billboards and banners occupied the skies above, all animatedly advertising flashing images and footage of upcoming games and titles. Up or down, there simply was no escaping from the celebrations and uplifting mood that was sweeping the entire continent.

Schwarze took in all of it, admiring the sight and feeling the rushing air brush past her hair. "Quite a day outside, isn't it?"

"Yep. Buuuuuut I think I'm gonna hole up at my place," Weaver replied, her voice carrying an insecure intonation. "After the what's happened, I think I could use a pint and wait this out. Maybe rethink some things while I do..."

"Hmm. That reminds me, you could try shaking up the setting for your next project," advised Schwarze. "Call me biased, but you could try a more rustic Wild West-like setting. I reckon there'll be plenty of interesting stuff to work with."

"Post-apocalyptic worlds are already got the rustic charm. Though that does give me some food for thought… Perhaps subvert the norm by having the next story be a prequel? Revisit the fantasy setting? Or try a new brand that's set in outer space but combines that Wild West theme you mentioned?... On second thought, maybe not."

A look of inspiration slowly dawned on Schwarze's face. "Outer space with a western theme? That kinda sounds like a nice idea. Just need something unique yet simple to title it..."

Weaver gave her passenger an amused look. "Not going to be another one of your fan-fictions, is it? Can't say I've read the ones you've made based on the other Devs' characters but uhhhh..."

"Eh, I don't mind," replied Schwarze. "Writing is still writing. I can't imagine anyone _not_ fantasizing about what goes on in the world made by others."

A soft chuckling could be heard from Weaver as she continued to navigate through traffic. "If you say so..."

But the friendly bantering was cut short when Weaver spotted something unusual dead ahead and stopped. It wasn't the usual dense city traffic at busy intersections that caught her attention (those were unheard of especially at this time of the year). But rather, what caught Weaver's eyes and curiosity was the small crowd that gathered off at the intersection corner, every one of them casting their own eyes and curiosity to the intersection corner. Weaver followed their gaze and saw why they had gathered.

Above the heads of all bystanders was a wide white and orange sign boldly proclaiming the corner to be one of the local Genesis Stations. Weaver personally didn't think much of the brand - backed by the powerful Habgier Corporation and all over the PC Continent, but lacking the taste and style of an intimate store aimed for simple gaming pleasures. They felt a little too sterile, too corporate, for Weaver; a sentiment that she knew she wasn't the only one (like a certain spectacled Dev she knows...).

But as she waited at the intersection, Weaver had the chance to take a closer look at the store. Upon closer inspection, the overhanging sign's purity was marred by tomato stains. As her eyes cast down, Weaver spotted what didn't belong: the glass displays, once clustered with neon signs, display shelves, and ads, had unexpectedly found themselves sharing the exhibit with the rough, undignified sprayed lines of graffiti. What it meant, Weaver couldn't know as uniformed employees were busy washing them off. But she had a feeling she might know what the intention was…

"Wow, I didn't quite see that coming. Normally, people would vent their spleen online but vandalism is something else."

"Stuff like this isn't impossible, Schwarze," Weaver said. "But at the same time, they don't happen all that often. Which makes this a little more unusual..."

Schwarze continued to watch as the hard-pressed staff worked hastily, delivering mops and buckets beneath unwanted stares and gossips. She frowned. "I've heard plenty of bad rep that the store's got thanks to who they're associated with, and I've been hearing even more bad talk about their upcoming releases. If someone really has to take to the streets to mark up a store like that, then the circumstances must be that bad."

"Hm." Weaver herself wasn't quite sure what to make of it, other it being the work of the less than slim minority of gamers being so outspoken that they would deface a store. And the thing Schwarze said, she too was aware of the news. The upcoming HabCo-sponsored "Battlezone V" had been hotly criticized as much as news and hype spread around it since its inception. She got wind of the backlash, but Weaver didn't quite expect to see the result in person - if that indeed was the case.

But alas, even if she was curious, Weaver considered letting the whole affair slide. And she would have had she not been close enough to the onlookers to hear their chatter.

"... idea who did this?"  
"No clue… haters gotta hate I guess."  
"Meh. That stores' never been as good as the others. Other stores I know sell a lot more things."  
"Oh yeah, a lot more than just season passes. But even then I think they're a bit on the pricey side."  
"Speaking of pricey, my cousin's got his hands on a copy of 'Dark Rolls' for dirt cheap! Like, _literal_ dirt cheap!"  
"Wow. You get it from the, what's their name? The Fumble Lub? The Humble C-"  
"I'm not sure to be honest. He said he got it from some guys off the street around here; don't think they belonged to any corporation. The gal who he made the deal with was, well, a girl. Had a weird name, like 'Kazoo' or something."  
"Really? I should try finding them out and get the hottest deals! Forget these stores - I'll go for what I can get for cheap!"

Further gossip was droned out as Weaver got all she wanted to hear. She wasn't sure what to make of it. Could this all have been the work of video game pirates? Maybe not the graffiti vandalism; that could have been anyone. But chances are, video game piracy was just part of the bigger picture. With the era of gaming at full swing, so would piracy.

Weaver turned to Schwarze, whose intrigued face revealed that she too had heard all of it. "So what's your take?"

"Probably whatever you're thinking, Weaver," she replied. "If people are going so far as to deface game stores and openly buy from pirates, then I think we're looking at a serious problem in the making."

Weaver leaned back in her seat as she thought with a soft chuckle. Hearing video game pirates again definitely reminded her of something. If piracy was indeed becoming a problem again, then it would just have to be put down again (though she quietly hoped that the pirates this time wouldn't be so well equipped). Plus, if she could pitch in and help uproot the problem, her public esteem would surely be given a well-deserved boost - Weaver felt like her Acclaim level had been slipping recently.

A soft shuffling sound could be heard from the backseat. Yawning, BJ looked around. "Yo, this still ain't home, Weaver. And what the hell is up with this traffic?"

An idea formed in Weaver's head as she turned around. "Hey, BJ. How about a little detour through Painville to go visit some pirate friends? I hear they could use a real smack up and smack down provided we can find them. Tag along with me and I'll think about getting you that new punching bag you wanted."

A wide evil grin spread across BJ's face. "Alright, you're on!"

Weaver turned to Schwarze. "You're free to join us. I don't see the harm in letting you come along."

Schwarze nodded. "I'd be glad to help out. Even if I'm still a Prospective Dev I can pitch in."

Satisfied, Weaver glanced away to update her wrist gadget with their new objective and heading. The cross-traffic finally began to die down and the traffic lights changed to let the cars pass. With a roaring purr of the engine, the black convertible eagerly drove forward before taking a turn and disappearing elsewhere into the city.

* * *

A MINUTE EARLIER…

Frost stood where she was, staring at the empty air that was, for a split-second, where the target of her pursuit was. Or where he could have been, as when she turned around, she was met with the same alleyway, containing the same emptiness and the same conclusion. She could try looking for clues, but by the time she found anything substantial, they would be far away. Frost exhaled - she would have to settle with accepting this slight loss.

Scanning her area one more time, she turned back the way she came from, the same corridor she had dashed through, her assault rifle in hand but finger off the trigger. In the back of her mind, Frost reviewed what went down.

As per her assignment, Frost had been patrolling from one Genesis Station to another, providing oversight and assistance. All the stores had been busy as bees, with all employees on deck working around the clock, tending to the register and customers, managing inventory, and even offering job opportunities to any willing talent. As an associate Dev, Frost had been working deep in the proverbial frontlines, working near the back to help direct the labor flow and intervening directly as necessary.

She had been preoccupied personally handing out copies of "Battlezone V" as part of the store's advertisement gig (as much as a straight-laced soldier could) near the back of the store when a loud clang was heard from the front. She had at first expected that maybe some of the employees had dropped something at the store front, but such assumption fell apart the moment she cast her eyes to the front. Through the display windows, non-uniformed employees crowded outside, black spray snaking over the glass. One of the store employees stumbled through the front door, and Frost was already on her way outside. The vandals immediately broke off and ran the moment they saw her before she even charged outside. Forced into a chase, Frost pursued the vandals, trying to identify whatever identity she could spot before they turned a corner in the alleyways. Shouts from her and jeers from them were the only shots fired.

And that was when she lost them, leaving behind nothing but a defaced storefront in her hands.

' _Didn't get much of a clear ID on them,'_ Frost thought wistfully. ' _I'm not sure if they were targeting any store or just me specifically. Either way, driving them off may be the best I result I can get...'_

She stepped out of the alleys to be greeted by the sight of a gathered crowd, gaping at the vandals' work. Nearby, the store's shift manager was hard at work, juggling between maintaining business and the store's image. Needless to say, whatever brand the vandals' used, the paint didn't wash off easily.

As Frost made her way back to the store as discreetly as she could so as to minimize attention, the traffic along the street had finally shifted. And as Frost walked, something in the traffic caught her eye. Her eyes darted over just in time to see the various cars and trucks all trundle past with haste, but she most definitely saw something.

A certain car. Black and antiquated. An open roof with exposed occupants.

Frost did a quick mental check on where or when she had seen a car just like that. Then she tried to remember who owned such car.

… Was it really that same car?

The car had long vanished among the traffic flow, so there was no way to positively confirm her suspicions. And as it still stands, there was still work to be done before she could relocated to another store and oversee operations over there. No doubt a call would have to be made notifying all of them of the vandalism incident.

But as Frost gently pushed her through the front entrance, her suspicions only grew. Fate or coincidence, Frost had a peculiar feeling to take from it.

Something was definitely coming up.

* * *

 _OMAKE:_

It was a simple task (for someone tall like her), but the last item from the box had finally found its intended place near the top shelf. Satisfied, Frost turned to hand the now-empty box back to the young employee who had approached her earlier, with Frost once again staring downward just to make eye contact.

"Thanks, miss!" she thanked before trotting off elsewhere. Glancing around, Frost saw nothing but business and working employees. But so far, she saw nothing that indicated the slightest hint of trouble. Before Frost could make a small satisfactory nod to herself, a pair of voices from the back of the store slowly started streaming in. She turned to see two coworkers deep in conversation, obviously not taking a break back in the staff lounge and completely oblivious to the work going on.

"... so you're tellin' me that rainbow sprinkles are the way to go?"  
"Absolutely! Because with them you get to experience the texture and all the different flavors on your donut -"

A quick "Psst!" from Frost caught the pair's attention as Frost motioned them over. Confused, the pair walked over.

"Is everythin' okay, Ms. Sarge?"  
"Did you drop something?"

Frost frowned. "This is supposed to be business hour!" The look that mixed apathy and bewilderment still clouded their faces, so Frost quickly continued. "Now, the front of the store could use an extra pair of hands or two to help with the customers or to pass out flyers. Move in to assist," she ordered, motioning with hand signals.

But instead, one of the employees - a rather young spectacled man - remained oblivious. "Oh, oh, charades! I know this one! Is it, uh..."  
"No, no, hang on," his coworker cut in, another young man wearing a beanie hat. "It's uh, it's gonna be a -"  
"A musical, right?"  
"No, no. A book!"

Frost sighed beneath her face-palm. This was going to be a long shift...


	11. A Humble Search

"Well geez, _that's_ what happened?!"

"Yep," Bell replied flatly. "Some goons tried robbing my store of games at first before they tried to go after the cash. Needless to say, they got wasted, with only light property damage and lost merchandise to say about it." Bell paused as the pair continued walking the streets of inner Conderica, marked by the prevalence of tall loud buildings and vehicles seemingly every couple of feet. With people and noise everywhere, Bell found it hard to find her own moment, either in person or in her mind.

' _... I'm starting to hate city life,'_ Bell sighed as she wiggled her newsboy cap she chose to wear today. Cog leaned in, slightly curious.

"So uh, what's with the gettup?"

"I figured it'll be a bit of a disguise," Bell explained. "After what happened last night, who knows if those punks are still out there somewhere." She glanced around; so far, no one around them seemed to be vaguely suspicious. They were in the thick cloud of pedestrians amid the buzzing cacophony of the city. In the hands or arms of most people were shopping bags, loaded with goodies no doubt.

And no doubt it's still clear that Bell need to seek out the Bumble Club.

The pair continued walking slowly down the street, passing by posters and flyers of all shapes, size, and vandalism. "So what's the plan, Bell? How're we supposed to find somethin' that don't wanna be found, unless they conveniently pop in to help us squeeze outta a situation tighter than some uptight's B-hole like last time."

"In fact… that's the idea. Or at least, part of it."

Cog turned her head to Bell. "Wow, really? Where're we gonna find some rats of unusual size to fight so that they'll pop out like some rodent genie from hell asking what kind of three wishes I'd like except it's a rodent like those gophers that make potholes so there's no way I'd entrust something like to deliver wishes (as if!) and then -"

A smack lurched Cog's head. "No, not like that, silly," Bell chided. "We just have to find where the secret entrance is and get their attention - _without_ blowing something up."

Cog huffed as she rubbed the back of her head. "Okay, jeez… So let's find this secret entrance of theirs. Now where was that fancy 'lil diner we went last time? Y'know, that one place we got kicked out a while back..." It didn't escape Bell's notice that Cog quietly mumbled the last part.

* * *

The alleyway was exactly as Bell remembered it. Well, exactly except for the daylight lighting, the trash cans and bins being in different places, and all physical evidence of any divine skirmish having occurred here long removed.

But even then, revisiting the same exact place never gave Bell a comfortable feeling.

She glanced around in all directions. It wasn't the hidden entrance she sought, but rather making sure that no one was watching. Snooping around in winding alleyways wasn't exactly a crime, but not being seen was something Bell preferred; made things a lot less awkward.

Cog tapped a random segment of the brick-layered walls with her shoe, miffed and tired from trying to examine every possible crack and indentation. "So, uh, where was it again? In fact, how're we supposed to tell where the heck it is? I don't see no door."

Bell paused. Then a small idea struck her. "Wait. I might have an idea." Lifting her cap, Bell dug a small card from underneath. Gripping the card between her fingers, Bell checked the card's face: "The Bumble Club" written with a stylish cursive against a solid background, devoid of any other inscription or graphic. A business card Bell was given the last time they bumped into them. Bingo.

"Huh. Forgot you had that darned thing. So what's the plan?"

Bell gently nudged Cog off to the side. "Just make sure no one's watching, alright?" As Cog stepped away quietly mumbling under her breath, Bell approached a random segment of the wall, the organization's business card in hand. Taking a deep breath in (and hoping like hell that this pays off or else Cog would never live this down), Bell made her move.

"Hello. I'm - _we're_ looking for the Bumble Club. If you're out there, can you give me a sign?" Bell waited, keeping her eyes and ears keen for a response of some kind. A second passed without incident, and Bell sighed. "Hello? If there are any Bumble Club members in this alleyway, please talk into the figurative recorder."

Again, nothing.

Muffled laughter slowly intruded the silence. "Belly! You - you're honestly _talkin'_ to nothin'! Nothin'! And - and you're standin' there like a -"

Pinching fingers suddenly found themselves pulling Cog's cheeks apart before she could say anything other than "Ow-owowowowowowowow!"

"Don't. You. Dare," Bell warned, her glasses suddenly bright and opaque against her darkened face. "You spill the beans and I'll remind you of the you-know-what."

"Naw, naw!" Cog whined as she wiggled ineffectually. "Anytin' buh that! Pweeze anytin' buh that! Ah've already pwomised nevah to use yer computah fer po-"

Her cheeks (and by extension her face) snapped back into place and immediate relief came as Cog nursed her reddened cheeks. Back to normal, Bell sighed, scratching her head. "Well, I tried the direct method and that didn't pay off. I mean, there has to be a way to get their attention without getting any unwanted attention on ourselves! What, we have to play a game of 'Marco Polo?'"

"Marco!" Cog jokingly called, stretched face immediately forgotten.

"Polo!" Instantly, the pair whirled around to find a pair of eyes staring at them from a void on the wall that neither positively remembered there being a moment ago. Around the eyes lay a dark domino mask, the color contrast seemingly making the wearer's eyes illuminate. Aside from the mask, nothing else seemed out of the ordinary for the wearer's appearance.

But the mask was all Bell needed to see.

A moment pass before the masked stranger realized she had brought all attention to herself before immediately shrinking away out of sight. "O-oh! I'm-I'm sorry for the intrusion. I-I thought I heard -"

A pair of hands flashed to the stranger's arms before she could retreat from the opportunity. "Wait, wait!" Bell interjected. "You're with the Bumble Club, aren't you?"

"Um-um, I c-can neither confirm nor deny that!" stammered the masked girl, the domino mask doing nothing to conceal her embarrassed expression or the validity of her claim.

Bell produced the card between the two of them, the emblem and brand in clear sight to the stranger. "Relax, I brought this with me. Just head back to your hideout and let your, uh, leader know that we're here. Someone named 'Bell'; she should recognize me."

The girl could only stutter incomprehensibly before lightly nodding in uncertainty. "Um… sure." And without another word, she departed, the empty void suddenly being filled with the wall that blended perfectly with the rest of the scenery.

Brief silence fell upon the alleys as Bell and Cog simply waited. "... Next time some secretive organization helps us out, I'm just gonna ask for their phone number..." Bell quietly muttered.

* * *

The faint clanging of unfastened locks could be heard before the door opened forth.

The sight of a blond-haired girl, also wearing a domino mask, was what greeted Bell and Cog as they entered, her golden eyes brightening as she recognized the two. "Hey, long time no see, Bell!" she happily greeted.

"Er, I don't think we've been away for that long, JR," Bell replied, taking JR's outstretched hand for a quick handshake. "But hey, it's still good to see you too."

Out of nowhere, Cog popped forth in between them. "Yo yo yo yo! Whatta 'bout me?"

The surprise quickly wore off as JR simply patted Cog's head with a wide maternal grin. "Oh, yes. Who could forget about you too, Cog?"

The warmth was returned with Cog feebly wresting the hands out of her hair, grumbling beneath her breath. As Bell quietly smirked at seeing the Bumble Club's leader play with Cog's pigtails, a cursory glance up revealed something that caught her attention. While the hideout was the same as Bell remembered back when the organization helped them out of a tight situation, the atmosphere within was different. The long rows of tables were filled with game copies and merchandise just as she had seen before, but now they were really loaded to the brim. And what items they couldn't find space for on the tables and displays, Bell could see clutters of boxes alongside them, their contents obvious. And for an organization that pledged to sell games as discreet yet honorably as they could, the Club's many masked members moved with all haste as they frantically walked in all directions, hands full both figuratively and literally.

It was something that Bell hadn't seen before (having only seen the inside of the hideout once, that's not much). And yet, it already confirmed her suspicion.

"Hey sis! Quit standing around and help us out, will ya?" called a fiesty voice. JR turned and both Bell and Cog's eyes were greeted to the sight of someone indignantly marching in their direction, a masked girl whose curly but fiery-red hair and red eyes already spelling out her personality with the only irregularity being the single blonde streak in her hair.

"Relax, JG. I'll be right with you. I was just greeting some familiar faces," JR replied cheerfulness.

"Familiar faces? Wha -" As JG wondered, she automatically glanced to the side where Bell and Cog were, the former waving awkwardly.

The redhead, though recognizing them, did not share her sister's attitude as she placed her hands on her hips. "Oh, it's you two again. Look, we've got our hands full here, so you're gonna have to make it quick. We're real busy with the whole Festivities thing - getting all the goods, finding trustworthy buyers, and covering our tracks the best we can."

"Oh, so it definitely couldn't have been you guys," Bell noted. The remark drew a curious look from JR and JG. "What the heck do you mean by that?" JG demanded, drawing close to Bell. "What do you mean that it wasn't us guys?"

Bell adjusted her glasses. "Guess I'll start from the top..."

* * *

As they listened, both JR and JG's eyes widened with surprise and worry. "So, yeah, that's what went down last night," Bell finished. "I figured there's absolutely no way you all could be involved in that and coming down here, my suspicions were spot on."

"Oh damn," quipped JG. "Of all the game stores to get robbed, I honestly didn't expect yours…" Further comment was swiftly cut by JG silently muttering something under her breath, avoiding eye contact with Bell.

"Yeah, what she said," JR added. "The timing's too convenient: first, video game pirates running rampant enough to be noticed by the media, and then your store almost got robbed. I mean, it's bad enough that we get associated with piracy, but having the blame be pinned on us is another thing!"

"Well, if it's not you, then any idea who could be doing this?" Bell asked. "I mean, last time we met, you and your group just so happened to know where some video game pirates were hiding out like it was no trouble at all. So if there's anyone I could ask, I figured it be you guys who might have an idea."

JR turned aside, humming with thought. "Hmm… Unless we have a positive ID on those pirates, they could just be anyone. But there's also the factor that there's been multiple reported robberies and vandalism among game stores. And get this: many of those stores that have been targeted happened to be Genesis Stations."

Cog leaned forward, butting her head in the midst of the conversation. "Ha! Serves 'em right I guess."

The comment was met with a slap at the back of her head. "Idiot!" spat JG. "There's more to than that! Today's also the day that the Genesis Stations release their newest hit title to the market! And if you haven't been living under a rock, that game and the people associated with it already have bad rep."

JR nodded. "It seems pretty clear that there's a relation between that, the Genesis Stations being targeted, and the uptick in piracy." She paused. "And, uh, how did you say the robbery went down?"

Bell tried to recall the exact details. "They were hooded, wearing bandanas around their mouths or something. Seemed focus on stealing just the games until credits got involved. Most of 'em were armed, mostly with bludgeons."

JR frowned, an expression shared by her sister when the two later glanced at each other. Immediately, Bell knew something was up - the shared look of something they knew but quietly didn't want to admit to themselves. Before she or Cog could say a word, JR turned back to face them, her expression, while serious, bore disquieting concern.

"Okay, based on everything that we know, we might have some idea. But there's something we'd like to know before we can confirm it." From what little she knew of her, Bell had thought JR to be a chipper person, more so than her sister. But the way she was now… Bell couldn't help but feel something was out of place, that something has gone terribly wrong.

Bell and Cog exchanged a glance. "... So, uh, what do you want us to do?"

* * *

Unlike the dense part of the city that was filled to the brim with life, energy, activity, and lights, the downtown area was more more somber by comparison. Drab concrete were everywhere, cracked in many places where nature could reclaim its domain. What color there was was more muted, more restrained than the bright neon lights. Gone were the buzzing and blaring of music and people - the folks who inhabited the downtown district seemed ill-content to display any exuberance. The place was far from dead - but compared to the liveliness of the inner city, it may as well be.

Bell and Cog stood on the cracked and dirt-littered sidewalk in front of an alleyway: a filthy chasm between identically-drab buildings mired by unswept trash, practically burying the real floor.

The place that, according to JR, some local video game pirates could be hanging out. If they want any leads, then this would be a good place to start looking. With the sorry state the infrastructure was, it was perfectly natural to start here.

' _... Why can't we ever find pirates hiding out in a 5-star hotel?'_ Bell squinted down the darkened corridor. The sun was still high, but the alleyway remained shrouded in darkness. With that kind of environment, who knows what they could potentially run into. Or what they could step on, judging by the poorly-maintained dumpsters and bins along the sides.

Cog glanced around, seeing nothing but the crumbling buildings, rusted signs and light posts, and the odd apathetic pedestrian that milled about to seemingly give this part of the city the slightest sign of life. Peeking to her left and to her right, Cog figured that they could take a chance. "Hey, Bell, lets -"

"Yeah yeah, I know," Bell interrupted, "let's just waltz right into a place that totally looks innocuous and secure with no real plan since we'd be on their turf. Anything I missed?"

Instead of a response, Cog simply skipped into the maw of the alleyway. "Last one in's the ugly skag-sucker!" And with that, she dashed off, oblivious to the grime on the ground, the cracks on the walls, and the obvious "here be dragons or whatever"-esque low lighting. With only a sigh, Bell could only jog after her; might as well get this over with as soon as possible.

Cog remained ahead at full tilt, uncaring about any potential hazards she could run into (or step onto). ' _Freakin' Cog… You'd think I'd be able to catch up to her because she's got shorter legs - her strides should be smaller! That and rushing face-first into trouble.'_ As Bell delved deeper into the alleyway, she was able to see its exact conditions: the brick and mortar walls were cracked in many places, with some aged and quite deep (' _Talk about lax maintenance. Or getting a building contract from the lowest bidder.'_ ); the gap above was cluttered with all manner of obstructions, ranging from exterior air-conditioning units to tarps that gave the alleyway its shaded atmosphere (' _Clearly not for decorations or anything.'_ ).

"Cog! Slow down, will ya?" Bell could only see Cog's bright short pigtails as she continued her pursuit. Panting, Bell tried to keep up. Even if it meant diving headfirst deeper in an unfamiliar place, there's no way she could leave Cog behind and do this entirely on her own (...Well, maybe she could). Bell ran past some graffiti-covered brick wall until Cog finally slowed down.

"About… damn… time!" Bell panted. But as she approached Cog, she took no notice of Bell, instead bending down. Confused, Bell got closer in time to see Cog turn around. "Hey, Bell! Check this out!" And before Bell could respond or ask, a grimy cardboard parcel was thrusted before her.

"Augh, jeez! Don't stick that thing at me!" Bell shouted, recoiling away from the oil-ridden aged box. Out of reflex, she shot her hands out in front of her, knocking the package out from Cog's hands where it flopped onto the floor with a curious thud. Against the ground, the flimsy box gave way and its contents spilled out…

… A loose collection of dusty plastic toys and laundry clamps.

Bell and Cog stared down at the contents, part relieved (mostly Bell), part disappointed (mostly Cog). Bell quietly glanced around, but nothing seemed to suggest that anything else was within earshot. She tried to relax a bit - at least they're not in immediate danger nor did she have to touch the package. Speaking of which…

"Oh. Huh, thought there'd be pirated games like last time..." Cog muttered with dissatisfaction (' _Yeah. Freakin' deja vu and all,'_ Bell thought). Then, as though remembering something, she glanced down at her fingers now marked by oily streaks. Cog glanced further down at her overalls, but as she cast her gaze towards Bell's orange parka, an impulsive idea popped in her head. In a flash, her hands swiftly latched onto the jacket, smothering the spot where they landed.

A quick smack to the top of Cog's head put an immediate end to that. "Argh, dammit Cog!" Bell shouted. The bright orange had now been blemished by a streak of black smudge across the front, courtesy of Cog's hands which were now a little cleaner. Despite the clear danger she was now in, Cog could do nothing but giggle like mad against Bell who stayed agape.

"Oh you-!" Before Cog could evade, Bell had grabbed Cog into a headlock and to give her a vigorous noogie. "Here, you like that, huh?!"

Despite the position she was in, Cog couldn't help but continue giggling. "I'ma keep touchin' ya! I'm keep touchin' ya!" she teased, her grimy hands clutching Bell's jacket spreading the smears more.

"Oh come on, Cog!" Bell whined with frustration before finally releasing Cog from her grasp. She looked down at her jacket to see the stains and bars of black and gray across the front. Bell quietly seethed to herself.

"C'mon Bell. It's not like it's been dashed by perma-marker or anythin'," justified Cog. "Just wash that off an' it'll be as right as rain."

"Like hell it will!" Bell shot back. "I don't even know what this crap is exactly! It's either sludge, mud, oil, or some kind of unknown alien pathogen for all we know! The kind that'll probably give us third-degree cancer after a long period of incubation due to genetic incompatibility!"

Anxious, Bell looked around and found an overflowing trash can right beside her, scraps of paper spilling from the lid. Gingerly, she tore the cleanest of the papers she could find to try wiping her parka clean. As she did so, Bell noticed that the crumpled sheets were pamphlets and small posters of various game stores, often from the Genesis Station. Wrinkled and a little torn on the edges, the sheets had no other damage: no vandalism. If anything, they looked fairly recent.

Bell looked at the trash can again. Its overflowing content was practically nothing but identical pamphlets, one of which littered by its base, preceded by a trail of identical items that snaked its way to where they had arrived from. Only the abundance of other trash and dirt had camouflaged it from either eyes all this time, but now that Bell noticed them, she wondered how on earth she missed them. This far in the alleyway, was someone intentionally tearing them off from public spaces and…?

 _*... Cling-a-ling!*_

The distant but sharp intonation of something metallic falling over made Bell and Cog perk up, everything up to that point swiftly forgotten. Eyes cast to what lay ahead, neither could see what caused the noise. Nothing but darkness and the stretching alleyway greeted them.

Wordlessly, Bell and Cog immediately departed in the perceived direction. Though they picked up the pace, Bell made sure not to run too fast - they were now in the part that began to branch off, and in unfamiliar territory like this, anything could literally be around a corner.

"What up with the skiddadlin', Bell?" Bell glanced back to see that Cog had stuck with her this time, but now she had her machine gun in her hands. The boxy beat-up contraption she wielded as her go-to weapon was as long as Cog was tall, if not slightly longer. "Let's get in there and mess some crap up!"

"Hey!" Bell hissed as she forcibly grabbed the gun down. "First, we got to figure out where that sound came from. And second, these pirates have got to be people this time. I'm not gonna perform a one-time crime busting act with a potential murder charge on our heads!"

Cog rolled her eyes. "Don't know what the problem is, Bell. _They_ could try that stunt on us for all we know! Hey, out of curiosity or whatever, how'd you know they're here?"

"Well, JR said they'd be here, and she hasn't been wrong before," Bell explained. "Plus, you seen that trash can I was next to? That thing was filled with a bunch of advertisements from the Genesis Station; remember that whoever the pirates are might also be connected to the string of attacks on the store brand. The stuff in that can looked relatively new so there's a good chance that the pirates we're trying to look..."

Another clang rang out, similar but now in another direction as this time.

"... have got to be nearby!"

In an over-energetic flash, Cog bounded forward towards the source much to Bell's surprise. "Cowabunga ya mother-humpers!"

"Cog, wait!" Bell tried to run after her, but Cog was speeding far ahead of her. By the time Bell even got halfway into the alley, Cog had already arrived at the end before promptly dashing off out of sight elsewhere. Bell panted as she ran, freely kicking over any loose debris that stood in her way that Cog hadn't already kicked on her way.

Having her companion run off heedlessly was on thing to worry about. But right when Bell couldn't think that the day could get worse, indecipherable scuffle could suddenly be heard ahead of her. She had no clear idea what was going on, but she could definitely hear Cog's voice among them.

That was bad.

Bell whipped out her own weapon, a crowbar that spontaneously appeared in her right hand. She tried to skid to a halt as she turned the same corner Cog had turned, the faint commotion now louder.

"Cog!" And as if on cue, the very individual Bell had been chasing after found herself being careened straight at her before she could even react. Colliding with her shoulder, Bell fell with a thud as Cog finally fell to earth some feet behind her, her weapon suddenly absent. Groaning in immense unexpected pain, Bell tried to sit up. In front of her, she caught a split-second glimpse of their assailant striding tall towards them. The usual dark lighting of the alleyways shrouded much details.

' _Who the… Is that…?'_

Before Bell could react (again), she suddenly felt herself be yanked skyward. She tried to move, but strangely found herself constricted. Whatever got hold of Bell shook her about like a doll, albeit one that yelled at each swing. The shaking, though brief, was forceful enough for Bell's vision to suddenly blur.

' _Ah! My glasses…!'_

By now, the tossing had ended, and though the world was a blur to Bell, she could see and feel that she was being lowered. Good news: no longer being shaken around and having blood rush to the head now that she was orientated upright. Bad news: she was blind and the person - or one of them responsible - was in front of her.

"... hey, hey! Ease up, will ya?..."  
"No you! The shorty ran right up to me! All I did was give her a light tap!"  
"Well, regardless of who did what, did we get the pirates?"

Bell couldn't squint hard enough past the blurred vision, but she frowned. Were these people not video game pirates? If not, then who? Something about this seemed off to her. Particularly the-

"... Hey, wait a sec!"

Something moved in her blurry vision - a person - and before Bell knew it, something was pushed onto her face. But it wasn't forceful or anything, and her vision immediately cleared up. Peering through lopsided lenses slightly speckled with dirt, Bell blinked her vision clear as she could finally see the world with clarity.

And more so, see just who they ran into.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_

 _ **HistoricHippos:  
**_ **About time there was an update! Apologizes for the wait - school work last month killed what time there was to make significant progress and other IRL stuff over summer break will probably affect the rate of updates even with the free time.**

 **Thank you for your patience and keeping up with the story. Act I of the story is about to kick off!**


	12. Searching the Steel Redux

Bell and the person directly in front of her exchanged a curious look before the other person broke the ice.

"... Bell?" Astonished, Weaver swiftly let Bell go from the grip of a metal-gray tendril that quickly slunk back into the familiar form of Weaver's sword. The one beside her, whom Bell instantly recognized as BJ: loud, boisterous, lover of blood, sports, blood sports, and action movies and apparently an old acquaintance of hers.

"Oh heeyyyy!" cheerfully greeted BJ, punctuated by a embracing the still-recovering Bell in a tight bearhug. "How's it going, Belly? How're the wife and kids? The missus? I'd thought you'd be lounging around the sack back home with that yearly sales of yours!"

Sheathing her sword into nothingness, Weaver twiddled with her sidetail. "... Yeah, now that she mentions it, what're you doing all the way out here, Bell? And what about, uh, shor-"

With a loud and angry yelp, Cog suddenly sat up into view behind Bell, her golden-blonde hair and pigtails scuffled and sullied by dirt. Wide-eyed, Cog gaped at Weaver and BJ. "Name's Cog ya stinkin' diarrahea-fartin' rat-piss! And just what in hell-damnation was that for?! You couldn't be bothered to recognize who I was before throwin' me faster than a horsey ride?! Did I look like one of them pirates?!"

BJ scratched her chin, though everyone had the impression that she was doing it simply because it was what people did when thinking, not that she was actually pondering. "Well gee, I'm gonna have to say that that's a trick question," she answered, not taking it seriously.

Cog got up, ineffectually dusting herself off as she threateningly approached BJ. But as she drew closer, all could see that all Cog accomplished was making it apparent that she was over a head shorter than BJ. "Yeah, well, you should get your darned eyes checked, B-Brain! I almost bought the darned ranch right there!"

"Oh sack the hell up, shorty. Just count your lucky stars that I didn't turn you into a modern art masterpiece on the walls."

Cog readied for another rebuttal before Bell sternly cut her off. "Okay, that's enough! But to answer your..." Bell's voice trailed off as she spotted a fiery red mane casually standing just behind Weaver.

"... Schwarze? You're here too?" Bell asked once the person's appearance kickstarted her memory. "I never expected that you'd get involved. Thought you were out doing… whatever or something if I recall."

"Oh, that?" Schwarze began as she sheepishly rubbed the back of her head. "Well, I was but Weaver called me up to meet with her because of-"

Schwarze's words were suddenly muffled by Weaver's hand as she seemingly popped right in front fo Schwarze, panic in her eyes. "Shush-shush-shush!" Weaver hissed. In a flash, Weaver turned to Bell and Cog with an embarrassed expression. "A-anyways, I was hanging out with Schwarze and BJ to take a break from work and as we were driving back to my castle, we passed by this Genesis Station that got ransacked! It was near this intersection that we stopped at, so we got a real good look at the scene. And apparently, there were some whispers on who could've been behind this, so we all decided we could try finding them out. And that's why we're here!"

Schwarze had finally wiggled her way out of the position Weaver put her in to give her an annoyed look, but said nothing. Bell and Cog exchanged confused looks.

"... Rrrrrrright," said Bell. "I take it you're all the way out here looking for video game pirates in order to score some brownie points?"

"Ye- er, no!" sputtered Weaver as she caught herself from slipping. "I figured that BJ and I could spend some time away from the whole Festivities thing by doing something unrelated. It's basically exercise for her! Schwarze here was willing to tag along and help out!"

The whole thing smelled fishy, but Bell quietly chuckled to herself. ' _Uh-huh. I knew that upcoming project of yours was going to crash and burn. The last time you got involved in this sort of thing was to help find writing inspiration, but I doubt you're here for that if your work failed and you want to distance yourself from it.'_ Bell watched as Schwarze quietly mutter something in Weaver's ear and whatever it was, it encited her to whisper something back to her with more urgency, all the while Schwarze wiped her mouth with her gloved hand. Meanwhile, Cog continued to fire off spiteful glances at BJ's direction, deflected by her obliviousness.

' _... Which leaves the last option: you're here to try and make yourself feel better and regain some of your Acclaim that you'll definitely lose - the "brownie points".'_ As she looked at Cog, Weaver, and BJ, Bell couldn't help but mentally smirk at an amusing thought.

' _Me and Cog in an alleyway trying to find pirates and we run into Weaver and BJ. Wow, if only the events from last time progressed that quickly.'_

"So, hey," Weaver began, having remembered something. "Can you tell me why you and Cog are here for? You can't seriously be after the same thing, right?"

Bell pushed her glasses up, having almost forgotten the question from earlier before. "Would you believe me if I said yes?..."

* * *

"... Huh. So that's why you're here..." Weaver commented once Bell finished explaining: from last night's event to the development up to this point. By now, the mood had long simmered down as Weaver, BJ, and Schwarze had listened to Bell's side of the story. Cog had cooled off to finally (in Bell's words) shut up as the exposition was laid down so that everyone was on the same page.

"Yep," Bell quipped. "So Cog and I were pointed this way to find leads, and for a moment I thought we might've been onto something. That is, until we literally ran into you guys."

Weaver quietly hummed to herself in thought. "And all this time, our pursuit based on rumors was actually based on fact - or at least, something more concrete than rumors."

Schwarze offhandedly twiddled with her fingers as she thought on something from Bell's words to pick up on. "But hold on, if this is supposed to be one of the pirate's hideouts, then how come we never found them?"

"Well, then maybe it's because we haven't explored this place to the fullest," Bell noted. She began shuffling back and forth as she considered the possibilities. "Until we've fully combed this place out (not that I'd want to), we can't really say for sure that we haven't found them. They could still be around, just elsewhere."

Weaver folded her arms. "But if they're not here, then we'll have to find some sort of clue as to their whereabouts," she said with an doubtful frown. "Even if we find something to indicate that someone had been setting up shop here recently, there's no guarantee that it'll point us in the right direction."

"We'll never know unless we try," Schwarze added with a small smile. "For now, we could just try looking around places that neither of us have searched through."

"Hm? What?" All eyes were cast to BJ who had been off to the side of the conversation. Judging by how she had been apparently picking her nose, she and Cog next to her had not been paying much attention. With their next decision set, it was only now that the pair seemed remotely revitalized. "So we ready to hustle up now or somethin'?" Cog probed. "C'mon, I wanna stick it to 'em already!"

"Yeah. What the short stuff said." And just like that, Cog immediately turned and tried to flail on BJ, only for the latter to simply laugh off the pitiful attempts.

Bell and Weaver could only roll their eyes. Glancing at each other and then the others, the two came to a unanimous decision. "You know what? Let's just get to someplace else and at least try to find the video game pirates."

"Agreed," added Weaver. She glanced around, first behind her then towards the corridor Bell and Cog had come from. "Let's get going. Let's, uh… try this way." And without further ado, Weaver sauntered past the others leading the way. Bell followed after, immediately followed in turn by Schwarze. The duo passed by Cog and BJ who continued to bicker as Cog resorted to hurling words so colorful she may as well have been puking rainbows.

Before Cog could go ahead with inventing entirely new colors for her language, Bell's hand yanked her by the back of her shirt. "Alright Cog, that's enough. You said you want to stick it to 'em? Then let's get moving already."

Cog growled in annoyance but stepped in after Bell. BJ then followed behind Schwarze, glad to be moving - but more glad that they'd be headed towards the action, whatever it may be.

Up ahead, Weaver led the way through seemingly identical alleyways, the corridors all cracked and grimey like all others. Aside from the near-identical walls, the only constant was the sky above which remained blue. Seeing this gave Bell an odd wistful feeling. She just hoped that their search wouldn't take up too much of their time.

They progressed down the chosen corridor, only to be met with more of the same sight albeit with a trio of trash cans and various rubbish lined up along the walls. Seeing as how there was nothing else, Weaver paused by the cans and shrugged her shoulders.

"Well, it's not much but I suppose they'll do for a start."

"Oh sure. Just let me double-check whether my tetanus shots have been up-to-date and I'll be right with you," remarked Bell who eyed the cans with unease. A hard slap on her back almost knocked her glasses off.

"Ha! Can't wait for some nurse to play 'Pin the Bell'! Better if I get front-row seats!" teased BJ as she strolled past Bell and towards the garbage. Bell could only sigh loudly. BJ popped open the first of the bins, greeted by wrinkled old newspapers and cartons up to the brim. Schwarze joined in, investigating the second trash can, making well sure to use her one gloved hand. Weaver, Bell, and Cog expanded the search by sifting through the several dumped boxes.

Flipping the lid open, Bell peered inside to see it crammed full with blackened wrappers and unmarked packages. A metallic clang behind her indicated that one of the bins they were to search through had been turned overside, courtesy of BJ. Its contents of empty juice cartons, burger wrappers, plastic packaging, and a dozen other things Bell didn't bother to recognize spilled in the middle of the alleyway.

Bell forced herself to ignore the commotion and to focus on her current task. The weathered box didn't contain anything of value (as much value as everyday trash had). She glanced up to check on the others. Other than BJ, the rest had varying expressions: Schwarze and Weaver tried to be inquisitive with whatever they scrounged up and Cog was quite unimpressed with what came up. All in all, no one had found anything.

' _Oh well.'_ Dissatisfied with a thick wad of receipts, Bell tossed it aside. She could put it back where it came from, but it wasn't like one small act of littering would change anything in this place. The wad bounced lightly on the ground before resting neatly among scraps of paper, crunched dead leaves, and-

Bell blinked twice as she did a double-take at where the wad landed. Right beside the scrunched-up paper, there lay a crooked but slender stub. But there was more to it that caught Bell's attention.

' _... Is that… a cigarette?'_ The object's original length had long expired, and though its exact age couldn't be determined, the tip gently smoldered with a faded yellow glow. Leaning an inch closer, a light whiff of tobacco could be felt.

There was no doubt about it: it was a cigarette, a fresh one at that. But is so, then that meant…

The sound of shattered glass rang out.

"BJ!" Weaver hissed. "Can you please keep it down?"

BJ looked up, her expression tinged with annoyance but also confusion. She stood over spilled trash, but as everyone saw, it was still the same mess she made earlier. "Wasn't me, man."

"Then who…?"

The same sound rang out, and this time, everyone could see that it wasn't coming from among themselves. In fact, it came from down a corridor.

"It came from there! Come on!"

* * *

The diamond-like fragments carpeted the floor, carpeting the interior like a field of stars against the sun. A thick-soled shoe gently crunched on the shards as the person stepped in through what was the front window display of a old-timey game store. The young hooligan took in his surroundings: rows of shelves with rows of game boxes and merchandise. As business in this side of Conderica had not been quite high, low demand ensured that there would be a hefty supply of good booty for the robbers.

"Alright. You know what to do! Get as much as you can loaded up, pronto!" the muffled voice exclaimed. A pair of the robber's accomplices clambered in through the same window, sports bag in each pair of hands. The two - whose faces were obfuscated with baseball caps and hastily-wrapped bandanas and scarves - split off and went to work. Merchandise was indiscriminately swept and stuffed into the open bags. Despite robbing at opening hours, there was nary any resistance and any witness save for the store owner cowed behind the register.

Well, nary any witness save for five.

Bell peered at the situation from around the corner, where the alleyway met the open streets. This was not what she expected - she certainly didn't anticipate a robbery in broad daylight. Either the robbers were that confident… or they were that foolish.

"One hell of a bold move from them," Weaver quipped as she too observed from around the corner. "Do they look like the same guys who tried to rob your place?"

"Not sure. Considering that the ones who tried to rob my place did it at closing hours, they seem too dumb to be the same people." Bell answered.

"How many of them did you see?"

"Uh, I saw only three; one of them went in right when we arrived followed by two others," Bell replied in response to Schwarze's question. A yellow-blond scalp suddenly lurched into Bell's view, prompting an annoyed push back. "Out of the way, Cog."

"But I wanna see!"

"Hey, me too! But you don't hear me complainin', do ya?" All eyes turned to BJ who, all this time, had been securely fastened by Weaver's sword wrapped tightly around her. "... Well, I mean I would. I mean, I complaining right now. Literally."

Weaver looked at BJ with a blank expression. "... Right, forgot I did that. I was starting to wonder where all the screaming and shouting and explosions were. Well, in case you were wondering, there's about… two, three people who just broke into a game store up ahead."

"Just three of them?" Schwarze asked. In her hands, a single-tubed grenade launcher could be seen. "So they must be the game pirates we sought after." With a click, the tube swung downward where Schwarze loaded a can-shaped round at the end, before flicking the tube back in place with another click.

"Um, okay," began Bell as she glanced at the others, all implicitly ready for a battle. "Right. Hey Schwarze, what kind of-"

"Aw screw it! Let's just get 'em already!" Before Bell could even stop her, Cog had already dashed past her and was already running in the open street. With a surprised cry, Bell tried to grab Cog only to grasp empty air. She could only watch helplessly as Cog charged towards the ongoing robbery.

With a frustrated sigh, Bell quickly chased after Cog, followed by the others. ' _I'm starting to hate today.'_

* * *

Merchandise was swiftly swept aside, spilling into the open bag stuffed with other items of value. With a forceful sweep, the bag was zipped shut before it was hoisted up.

"Alright, I should be good!" barked the robber. His exclamation was met with a curt nod by the third member who slung a bag of his own. He glanced around the store with one last sweep. The shelves were being picked clean with two full bags and with their third member almost done filling hers but there was only so much that they could carry. They needed to flee the scene and return to their hideout to tally their loot. Then they can kick back and relax with another job well done: chips, drinks, having their turn on the bean bag chair, and for one, a victory smoke.

"Come on!" the leader of the trio forcefully grunted. "We gotta get the goodies back to our hideout! Then we can bring the good stuff back to our boss lady to sell away!"

"I know, I know!" spat the third member, a young teen beneath the bandana, as she hustled the loot into her duffel bag. "I'll be done in a sec! Or how about you stop standing there and give me a hand!"

"Oh I'll give ya'll a hand!" All eyes bolted towards the front of the store to be greeted by a short blonde pigtailed girl who was clearly a head shorter than all of them. Their intruder leaped through the shattered window and as she did, all eyes were immediately drawn to the bulky machine gun in her hand.

The lead robber and his accomplice stumbled back with surprised yelps. He fell backwards and immediately, a black muzzle was shoved closed to his face.

"Yeah that's right!" the armed intruder boasted. "Not so hot now that I've got a gun, huh? Now ya'll don't mind tellin' me what you've got in those bags of yours?"

Still locked in surprise, the lead robber couldn't think or speak straight. He mumbled, afraid to answer the question incorrectly lest the pointed gunbarrel corrected him. "Well, u-uh..." He snuck a quick glance at his accomplice, who still stood on his feet, but with his hands high up; like his leader, he too was taken off-guard. The two made eye contact but said nothing; neither could come up with something to say.

"Okie-smokey, ya punks," the girl continued, dissatisfied with the lack of answer. "I bet you both crapped your pants, so I'll got a mite bit easier on ya'll. What were you two doin' here? Dunno what you'd be sellin' but I don't think masks are needed!"

"Well, um…" the lead robber spoke after having recovered some of his courage, though it was still in scant amounts. "It was just… me, him, and uh..." He turned his head back to motion at his third accomplice, but much to his surprise, she wasn't there. Only the unzipped duffel bag lay where she was last seen.

"Okay, so it was just the two of you!" the pigtailed girl said. She motioned at the two zipped bags with her gun. "Open up or else I'mma have to use my delicate lock-pickin' technique! That's my gun by the way!"

' _The hell…?'_ Now confused, the lead robber discretely tried to look around, hoping that their captor was too stupid to notice. His companion's expression shared similar sentiment: just where did their third member go?

With only the sound of shuffling clothes as forewarning, a large blur smacked itself onto the blondie's back, dragging her backwards where she fell with a yell. Wrestling on the ground, the two robbers saw that it was their third compatriot who had tackled their intruder to the ground, having apparently snuck away from the site. Their intruder was hamstrung by her small size and though fierce, it was unfocused and mainly her being very vocal about her predicament. Her gun had fallen far from her arms from the tackle.

"The hell you standing around for?!" the female robber demanded as she struggled to hold down the thrashing girl (who was also about a head shorter than she was). "GET THE F&$#ING BAGS SO WE CAN BOUNCE!"

"Alright alright!" In a rush, the two robbers scrambled to grab the bags, with one hastily running for the third bag while his partner had to haul two. Daunted by the weight of the bags and by urgency, they kicked open the front door. The last of the robber wrested her way out of the tangled mess that had partly descended into a slap-fight and dashed out the door. Outside, she caught up with her two companions, but a quick glance down the street told them that trouble was far from over. Four more people were running towards them, and as they saw that they were all armed, the slow realization of who they could be began to dawn on the robbers.

A metallic tendril-like appendage suddenly flashed by the lead robber who managed to evade its grasp through dumb luck of his reflexes, although it nicked part of his jacket, leaving a fabric-ripped hole. "Aw screw this! This way!" The trio fled the scene, grunting and panting as fast as their adrenaline-fueled feet could take them.

Finally making it to the scene, but too late to intervene, Bell bent double panting. The rest stopped behind her, disappointment at their tardiness.

"Damn! They just fled out of sight," Weaver griped. "And I only grazed that one guy."

"Hey why we've stopped, huh?" BJ complained. "I'm not even warmed up yet! Where's the blood and mayhem I was expecting?!"

Angry stomping and even angrier shouting came from the store as Cog stormed out, rubbing a spot on her scalp. "Aw dingnuts! The hell did they managed to get away?! I had them and everythin'!"

"Yeah, _had_ them," remarked Weaver. "Sounds about right. If you hadn't rushed off like that we might've been able to get a drop on them."

Anger flashed in Cog's eyes. "Well if you hadn't taken your sweet time gettin' here, we still would've got 'em! But nooooooo, ya'll were too slow! Besides, it's not like we were gonna let 'em bounce outta there in the end anyways!"

A firm arm suddenly wrapped around the back of Cog's neck as she was almost lifted off her feet. "Hey, now you're spittin' my language, shorty!" BJ half-teased, half-congratulated. She heartedly slapped Cog in the back which only accomplished in knocking Cog flat on her face in a record-breaking speed of how quickly one can perform "The Flop".

Catching her breath, Bell had time to observe the scene of the crime. Still bent over, her eyes caught an unusual matchbox-like object. She scooped it up, the sunlight revealing that the label of some brand. As she picked it up, a paper cover opened limply, spilling fresh-white cigarettes onto the pavement.

' _Cigarettes, just like the one I saw back there. So it was them...'_

Bell plucked one such cigarette off the ground. As she did, she picked out another cigarette resting some distance ahead. And as she noticed it, she noticed yet another some distance away, alongside a discarded merchandise packaging. And then another…

"Guys," Bell began, asserting herself in the center of their attention right when Cog, in retribution to the misguided compliment from BJ, was about to vent her chili pepper-flavored spleen. "Those robbers-slash-game pirates left a trail. We should follow it as quickly as we can."

"And hope that wherever they go will be either their main hideout… or their other accomplices," Schwarze concluded. Her grenade launcher still rested in her hands.

Weaver stared at the trail of cigarettes and freshly-robbed and freshly-dropped games with a bemused look. "Huh. Good to know that my near-miss wasn't all in vain after all. C'mon, we still got to track them down. And this time, let's actually arrest them."

Four different pairs of eyes all peered towards Cog.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_

 _ **HistoricHippos:  
**_ **And we are back with** _ **Neptunia PC: Dark Shroud Rising**_ **! Many apologies for the long long hiatus, lot of stuff over summer break that kept me preoccupied. I've still got a long rocky road ahead of me now that the school year's here, but hopefully actual progress will be made from here on out. Panzer and I have got a lot of ideas for our Neptunia stories that we haven't even scratched the surface of yet.**


	13. First Fight

Five pairs of feet stamped discordantly on the ground. Everywhere they went, more cracked pavement followed as they descended further downtown, into the city's shipping and storage region where rows of warehouses and small storage houses lay. Everywhere they went, the lack of life besides weeds was evident - this place like the rest of the area was abandoned and fallen into disrepair and neglect.

And everywhere they went, the trail of proverbial breadcrumbs preceded them.

Bell spotted yet another loose cigarette and another carton. Without stopping, she jogged past it, kicking it aside as she did, followed by the other Devs.

"Okay. Good to know that there's still a trail," commented Bell. Ahead, she spotted a colorful game case. "... On that note, good to know that they're dumb enough to not notice that they've been leaving a trail."

Schwarze glanced at the trail of clues ahead, then glanced around at their surroundings with suspicion. "Or we could be walking right into a trap, expecting us to follow the obvious trail. Worst-case scenario."

"Yeah, that. Just what I was thinking" Weaver inserted. "For all we know, one of them might've noticed the trail. Either way, let's be ready for anything." Schwarze gave Weaver a discreet side-glance but said nothing as they moved on.

They reached the next piece of the trail, and looking up, a shadow-tinted silhouette of a building lay right in front of them. Between the rust-speckled sheet metal exterior and the smudged windows, the building was derelict like everything else. On one of the faces, close to where the Devs were and where the trail ended, was an open void that lead to a musty-aired corridor.

A muffled, distant thud was heard from within.

Bell adjusted her grip on her crowbar, her gun contraptions at the back of her mind. "Well, trap or not, let's just get this over with."

"Cowabunga it is!" BJ loudly proclaimed. With her gnarly-toothed chainsaw in one hand and her bulky rocket launcher in another, she loudly barged inside, cackling along the way. She stomped aside whatever lay in her path; even battering an ajar door clean off its hinges with a simple stride.

"... Damn it," Weaver muttered as she chased after BJ's echoing laughter. Bell, Cog, and Schwarze followed suit, not because they were eager for a confrontation (probably the case for Cog) and not because they wanted to be the first to encounter the game pirates - but because of BJ inadvertently accomplishing both. The Devs were no stranger to fights but it was much easier to fight an inhuman monster than someone who had a head, two arms, two legs, a face, actual hygiene, and is a proud member of the 99% literacy rate which meant that they can comprehend a conviction when caught.

Bell ran down the hallway, chasing after the echos of BJ's jeers and Weaver's warnings. And all the way, the muffled sounds somewhere within the warehouse could be heard, its identity difficult to ascertain.

' _Jeez what's going in there? It sounds like they're trying to smuggle an elephant or something.'_ Movement of Weaver turning a corner caught her eye, but right before the three could imitate that move, part of the wall behind them suddenly collapsed in a shower of dust and pebbles. Turning swiftly, Bell saw that Cog and Schwarze were gone, replaced by the sight of them being sandwiched by BJ who was now with them, covered in dust. With a hearty grunt and barely any acknowledgement of the others, BJ flung herself back on her feet and charged the same direction where she was suddenly thrown from.

And to where BJ charged, Bell saw with widened eyes a towering beast - husky, ragged fur with a fiery mane, sinewy limbs as thick as treetrunks, its bulky quadruped form accompansing a good chunk of the wide warehouse. Stacks of stray boxes and barrels - as well as their scrap remains - were crammed with the beast; every shuffle from the wild monster would often knock over or toss aside the props.

The beast's head lurched at BJ's charge and roar, and roared in kind as it hunched, predator instincts back to full. And amidst the unforeseen and impending trouble, a familiar sight caught Bell's eyes. Tucked in the opposite end of the warehouse lay the three robbers as they cowered by the corner beneath the monster's size, helpless and quite frankly terrified as any moment they would eventually be found by the wild monster that had somehow made its way inside. Even with direct intervention, their safety was not guaranteed.

Video game pirates and audacious burglars aside, the rampaging monster posed a danger to everyone - especially to those without the means to defeat it. If it wasn't dealt with swiftly, the beast would endanger everyone involved.

With the factors in mind within a split-second, Bell did what came naturally in a scenario like this:

She immediately turned around to make a quick getaway. ' _Nope nope, I'm outta here!'_

But Bell made no more than two steps in before she found herself suddenly yanked backwards by her waist. She landed with a rough thud by Weaver's feet as her sword morphed back to normal. "Where do you think you're going, Bell?! We can't just let them get eaten by that thing! If we don't stop that thing, we won't be able to hand the pirates over!"

' _Of all the ways today can escalate...'_ Bell sighed as she picked herself off the soot and lint-layered floor, only to quickly duck back down as the monster's scaly tail swung overhead. The monster spun in place to reveal that BJ had clung to its roaring snout. Swinging side to side to no avail, the beast jerked upwards on its hind legs, smashing its head and BJ into the ceiling. But even making a crater up above did little to dissuade the bloodthirsty Dev.

As Bell watched, Cog and Schwarze came up by her side. Cog cocked her gun with an angry click. "Oh that mothersucker…! That's like, twice today! We pop a cap on that monster's ass, then I'm gonna take BJ and shove my -"

"Cog, not now!" snapped Schwarze. "Okay. BJ's got the thing distracted, let's hit it with whatever we have from afar!" She popped open her grenade launcher, and seeing that the tube was preoccupied with the proper round, gave a quick nod to herself before she took aim and fired. With a _*Pook!*_ , a blur sailed through the air with a noticeable trajectory, impacting the beast's hide. An explosion rocked the monster and the air with a fire-warm shockwave.

Frustrated and now in pain, the wild monster finally managed to toss the BJ-shaped pest of its face. She fell straight to earth, looking none worse for wear but certainly not down for the count. The beast lunged forward in a follow-up attack, only to be met not with a soft hind but a rocketing fist that knocked the monster flat on its back. It gnashed its jaws in pain, the fact that some of its fangs were now absent now evident.

"Nice one, BJ!" Weaver called out. She tightened her grip on her sword as she gave it a quick swing, combat ready. BJ lept high into the air, chainsaw in hand over the monster, only for a clawed muscled paw swat her aside. The best struggled to roll off its backside, clumsy due to the wound and the confines of the room. With a triumphant yell, Weaver swung her sword, the metal-gray blade shooting forth like a whip. And just like a whip, the blade wrapped tight around the creature's hind leg. Weaver pulled hard, even grabbing the now-blunt, smooth blade with her other hand.

The beast's foot slipped and it collapsed on its hindquarters. It growled in annoyance, glancing at its leg, then tracing the length of the sword back to Weaver with beady rage-red eyes.

Weaver took one glance and started sweating as the implications dug in. "Uh… little help?"

A bulky oversized red toolbox materialized out of divine light in Bell's hands. "Got you covered!" She tossed the box in front where upon crashing flat on the ground, the iron exterior unfolded. Upon opening up, a contraption flourished forth, rapidly taking shape and growing in size, its appearance metal-gray and red like the toolbox it came from. In less than a second, the once compact device had taken shape of an automated gun with a box-like head, a singular barrel poking out like a snout. With a single positive beep and a whirr, the sentry whipped towards the beast and began peppering it with rapid fire.

Now under threat of stinging bullets, the beast roared in frustration. Angered, it forcefully pulled its hind leg, sending Weaver sailing overhead with a violent yank. "Waaaauuugghhh!" She sailed across the room, looking up just in time amidst her yelling to see that her intended destination would be the hard ground. The scenery zipped right close to Weaver's face, until at the last second, she suddenly came to an abrupt halt. Jerking to the whiplash, Weaver was satisfied that she didn't crash to the hard floor.

What Weaver wasn't satisfied by however, was how she was unexpected heaved backwards, slamming into the ground, head first feet up.

"... Owwwww..." Weaver groaned. Coarse chuckling replied, which was something Weaver didn't expect. But as BJ's face peered down with a toothy grin that could put a shark to shame, Weaver realized she should have expected something of this sort.

"I would've appreciated it more if you hadn't freaking choke-slammed me," Weaver complained with as much of a contemptuous glare she could make. But BJ simply laughed as if told a dirty joke. "Funny way of saying 'Thanks!'" She then concluded the "friendly" exchange with a rough slap on Weaver's shoulder before she charged towards the fight.

Behind the scenes, the fight had been progressing. Now freed from Weaver's clutches, the beast clambered back on its feet, powering through the bullets from Bell's turret with animalistic rage. Seeing the creature recover was _not_ what Bell wanted to see. She shot a nervous glance at Cog who remained at her side.

"Hey, uh, if you wanna… you know..."

"Yeah I gettit!" Cog growled as she hoisted her machine gun. Pointing at the monster (and, upon close inspection, not really aiming), the thick barrel erupted to life with blinding flashes. And with each flash, an angry storm of bullets struck the monster. Stung, the beast reeled back, previous thoughts and intentions forgotten in favor of trying to deal with the lead storm being dumped on its face. The monster shook its head to ward off the pain and just as it could form a coherent thought, a can-sized lump of metal was punched into its face, leaving a deep indentation.

"Alright, guess armor-piercing rounds do the trick," assessed Schwarze as a fresh grenade round slid into the tube in lieu of the spent casing. "Here, how about this?" She took aim and another round sailed out. But upon impacting the beast's face, the grenade immediately dispersed, releasing a murky-colored haze.

"Oh yeah, _boom time_!" proclaimed Cog as she swung her machine gun towards the monster where it immediately exploded. In an instant, the gas combusted, augmenting the explosion into an outright inferno. The firenova consumed the flammable gas in an instant along with the monster's head, and just as quickly as it happened, the explosion died off, revealing the beast's face as nothing more than smoldering twinges of loose fur, its blackened face in sharp cartoony contrast with its still-bright eyes. As if realizing what how silly it now looked like, the beast gave a weak rough cough.

It quickly gave way to a surprised yelp as the monster felt a strong grip dragging it back by the tail. Before it could react, the strong pull gave way to it being lifted clear off its feet and being twirled in the air. Below, BJ cackled like a madwomen. "HOW DO YOU LIKE ME NOW?!" she shouted. Faster and faster the monster was swung, until - with one last swing - BJ pitched it upward, where the monster erupted through the warehouse ceiling and disappeared into the great blue beyond with its departure punctuated with a defeated wail and an twinkle in the sky.

Silence fell upon the scene like the dust that slowly settled in the now-messy interior. Having seen the monster be banished into nothingness, Bell let a deep sigh. ' _Jeez, can the day go on anymore weirder than this? First Cog and I run into these guys, then we had to fight a giant monster probably because someone forgot to lock the front door or something. Can this day get any more hectic for a simple errand?'_ The warehouse interior (or what was left of it) was in shambles, yet the other Devs were fired up by their victory: Weaver and Schwarze patted themselves on the back whilst deliberating on working the event into their own stories whereas Cog and BJ let out their victory cheers (complete with Cog trying to offer BJ a brofist only to be sent flying backwards when she replied).

Bell's gaze then fell upon the familiar individuals that cowered exactly where they were. Their faces were stricken with anxiety and fear, but now it was directed more towards the Devs. Eschewing the celebrations, Bell slowly approached the pirates; as she got closer, she caught a subtle scent of burnt ash and tobacco - the cigarette trail was now concluded. Their leader's face was no longer shielded by his improvised disguise, the balaclava like his courage: absent.

But what Bell noticed that was also absent was their loot: the baggage of merchandise they had just robbed and that the Devs had chased them for. She looked around, but found nothing but rubble and splintered debris as a result of the clash. Bell frowned. "Alright, where's the stuff? I don't see them anywhere and you had them last time. And don't tell me that the monster ate them."

The leader could only stare blankly. He tried to speak, but the shock of today's events prevented clarity from escaping his lips. Instead, he timidly pointed behind him. Following the finger, an obscure passageway could be seen. Figuring that there won't be any other lead, Bell strolled past the robber trio and through the passageway. Inside, she wasn't quite sure what the purpose of the room was, let alone see much of the interior due to the lack of lights. She stepped forward, wary of the darkness until for a split-second, the ceiling lights flickered on and off.

' _... Okay? If that was supposed to unnerve me, then mission accomplished.'_ Bell tried to brush off the moment, but couldn't help but feel shivers down her skin, like a surge of minute electricity.

' _Waaaaiit...'_

Ahead, something stood out from the darkness. Something small, yet glowing a bright purple. The sparks jumbled about in an erratic way, grouped close together. As Bell inched closer, the lights again flickered, and in between the flashes, Bell could see that it was what she was looking for, except…

At the same time, it wasn't.

As she inched closer, her distance kept solely by the fluttering sparks as they projected an invisible force of discomfort, Bell recognized them for what they were: glitchflies. The butterfly-like pests of neon purple flapped about with zest around the scattered yet recognizable remains of the stolen game merchandise. The wings of the glitchflies - decorated purple and black like checkerboard - buried the visible game box arts as minute flashes of static electricity could be seen and felt. That was bad news: sure they found the loot, but knowing how much glitchflies interfered with electricity - especially in large numbers - the stolen merchandise was irrecoverable. Those disks were now effectively vegetables thanks to the glitchflies' appetite.

As much as the sight made Bell frown, she couldn't help but feel some odd sense of satisfaction when the implications sunk in. ' _Looks like they won't be they'll be missing their paycheck this time.'_

Well, whatever. Bell turned around. There was one more thing left to do.

* * *

Bell approached the leader of the pirate trio, who were now surrounded. All eyes turned to Bell as she emerged from the room.

"So, uh, you found the stuff?" Weaver asked. She glanced down at Bell's empty hands and frowned. "... Something happened, right?"

"Yep. Bad news is that no one will be able to play games from them. Good news is that they could be recycled for some DIY harddrives," Bell replied. She pushed her glasses up as the main topic was now at hand. "Alright, spill the beans: everything you've got about yourselves and who you're working for."

The leader remained in tentative silence. Instead, one of his accomplices blurted out. "I-I-I don't know what you're talking about! It's just us!"

Memories of the last time she tangled with video game pirates filtered into her mind as she heard the response. "Yeah right," Bell retorted. "Look, I don't care if you're part of some group that just so happens to have multiple hideouts across the PC Continent or an evil villain lair, I just want to get this over with." The trio nervously glanced at each other, unsure.

A clunky gun barrel poked one of them in the head. Cog glared at them, all too willing to settle a round two with the three pirates. Weaver leaned against her sword with the liveliness of waiting for a bus, her watchful stare being the only hint. Schwarze was just as unconcerned, but her grip on her grenade launcher was conspicuous. BJ, having pulled out her chainsaw, entertained herself by cleaning her teeth, her fingernails, and even going so far as to lick the bladed teeth for intimidation.

The lead trio finally gathered enough "courage" to break the ice. "W-we're… m-more of us. Got a base and everything… O-our boss, she sent u-us out here..."

"Oh good." ' _We're getting off to a decent start.'_ "This boss of yours - what's her name?"

The same pirate opened as if to answer, only to hesitate with his lips. "Er… K… Kas, er..."

One of his accomplices nudged him with an elbow. "Stop screwing around and just say it!" she hissed under her breath. Hurt, the pirate glared back. "Well why don't you tell 'em?" he hissed back.  
"OK, fine! Her name's Kazoo! It's a crappy name!"  
"Ka-what? That's not her name, that's her _nickname_!" the leader, who had remained silent, retorted. "And yes, it is crappy!"  
"Who cares?" the second pirate moaned. "That's what a lot of our guys called the boss."  
"And a lot of those guys are already on her shit-list!" spat the third one.  
"Well, what is her actual name?!"  
"I've heard her say it, it's like… Kasooeh or something!"  
"Kahzooah!"  
"Kahzooeh!"  
"Kayzoouh!"

Robotic contraptions suddenly morphed into the shape of boxy turret guns mere inches from the faces of each pirate. But rather than blaze away with their cannons, the turrets slapped and smacked each pirate in their faces. Instantly, the bickering ceased, which Bell was all too grateful for.

Bell sighed. Perhaps an alternate approach was needed. "Okay, how about this: you just write down what that name is and BJ there doesn't get to… I dunno, make shishkabob out of you three. Or use you as a pogostick. Or whatever she'd do to you; it's not pretty."

Glances were exchanged between the pirates and BJ as Bell laid out the conditions: three nervous, one delighted.

The decision was obvious.

Defeated, and with quivering hands, the lead pirate scrambled for a pen out of his pockets. He quickly dug for any scrap to write on, anything. Then he glanced down and realized an alternative. He fumbled a click from the pen and scribbled something on the palm of his hand.

Done, the pirate shoved his hand out to Bell. She peered, trying to decipher what was scrawled on. But the more she studied it, the more clear it became.

" _Kazue_ "


	14. A Bumbling Moment

"... so that's what they said," reported Bell. "They said that the their ringleader is some girl named… well, it's spelled K-A-Z-U-E. Ring any bells?"

A faint sigh could be heard from the other end. "... That's what I was afraid of," replied JR. "Yeah, I recognize that name. There's a lot to know about who she is, so I'll try to be brief.

"Kazue (and it's actually pronounced like 'Ka-zoo-eh') used to be part of the Bumble Club, member XX, about a year or two or so ago. She came over from Gamindustri - born and raised there, I believe - but we accepted her as one of our own. But even if she had the right know-how and interest to sell games in the underground market, she didn't quite have the qualities we liked. We at the Bumble Club value secrecy and good services to help ensure that we stay out of corporate radar and build positive public relations, but Kazue… she didn't quite get it. Maybe she got the wrong idea with us skirting outside the law, but she sure pushed it a lot: repeat incidents of shoplifting, vandalism, complete disregard for laws… she was even a real pain in the cahootie to work with at times because of how cranky she could be.

"In the end though, there was just no way we could let her stick around, and I think she knew it too. One day, things got out of hand and we just had to kick her out. She obviously didn't take it quite well so, uh, yeah. Since then, she must've made her own group, using whatever she learned from us. But unlike us, her group's are real pirates through and through.

"... And without us to keep her in check, nothing's been stopping Kazue from endorsing her thug-like excuse of a game service. Openly plundering or vandalizing stores definitely sound like how she operates."

Bell mentally stewed on the exposition before nodding. "I see. So if she gets taken out of the picture, the piracy should stop?"

"Well, it sure won't stop _all_ piracy," JR clarified. "But yeah, it should. Not only will piracy rates drop, but it means we won't be taking all the bad rep anymore."

"Sure." Bell paused as she turned to see the vide game pirates they were pursuing be escorted to a police van, cuffed and under careful watch. Mere minutes ago, the day had been hectic, finding video game pirates to put a dent in the recent piracy only for both to run into some wild monster. With what little downtime she could find, Bell knew that the day was only getting started. She glanced down at her watch, the screen flashing bright against the noon sun.

"So where is this Kazue?"

"Uhh, lemme think… Ever since she left us to make her own group, we've being kinda keeping some eyes on her. And as far as our intel's concerned, she's headquartered out over at Emesex."

Basic geography knowledge filtered in Bell's head as she heard the name. "Emesex? Over at that city?"

"Yep," JR confirmed. "Kinda appropriate, isn't it? You got some who's from Gamindustri setting up shop in that city. Unlike the rest of Conderica, Emesex's got a prominent Gamindustri community. That place is the closest to her home that she'll get."

A quizzical look appeared in Bell's face. "Really? I would've expected her to be operating out of Cape Aspiration or something. She'd really be at home over there."

A small laugh was elicited. "Yeah, that wouldn't be surprising. But if I had to guess she probably doesn't want to be treated as a cape-head just for living in Cape Aspiration. Or as some certain people would put it, a 'Gamie'. I suppose even they have to draw the line somewhere with the weird stuff that can come from there."

Bell nodded her head in bored nonchalance; the exposition was already made. "Well, whatever the reason, that's where she is." She glanced down at her watch again, noting not the time now, but the time left.

"Yeppers! I know I may be a asking a little much, but do you mind taking care of it? We'd try doing something ourselves but I'm afraid we'd make a mess of it."

Bell sighed as she heard the expected. "Do we have to right now? We had a run-in with a wild monster just now chasing after the pirates and had to bail them out. Honestly, the day's gone on long enough and I'd rather -"

"Oh come on! The day's still young and with any luck you all may be able to get a drop on them. The sooner those pirates are dealt with, the sooner the problem will get solved." A brief second of silence fell as the two deliberated. "... Okay, how about this: unlike last time, we'll repay you however we can. You, the short stuff, and uh, who else do you have with you again?"

Bell peered over to the others: Weaver fiddling with her wrist computer, having a passioned conversation with Schwarze while simultaneously trying to keep a leash on BJ as she playfully (in her eyes) teased with the squealing Cog's hair (read: rub a nookie). The police officers that arrived at the scene did well to vacate as soon as they could.

"... Me, Cog, Weaver, BJ, and Schwarze," Bell finally answered. "I guess we'll be more than enough to deal with them. Just do me a favor and make this reward of yours meaningful, alright?"

"'Kay!" Jr cheerfully replied. "If you'd like, we at the Bumble Club will not only renew your VIP status, ensuring that you'll be on our close contact list, we'll also offer you exclusive -"

 _*Click!*_ Bell pocketed her phone with disinterest. She heard what she needed to hear and that was good enough. Getting something out of this was good too. She just hoped that the reward was good enough for them. Charity wasn't something Bell liked having to do often. Sometimes, yes; all the time, no.

Weaver had finally pulled BJ off of Cog, having had enough of her antics. Seeing that the police they had called had left, there was now nothing much for them to do. Nothing but wait in anticipation - knowing that there were more to the pirates they captured and seeing Bell approach them having wrapped up her phone call, the round two of the piracy charade was about to begin.

Bell walked up to Weaver, her presence grabbing her full attention. "Something in mind?"

"Maybe." Bell glanced down at Weaver's gadget accessory. "Where's your car and how soon can we get to Emesex?"

* * *

A gleaming ebon automobile zoomed down a road, one that was thankfully better maintained and more vigor with life and activity as the Devs returned to the proper part of Conderica. At the helm was Weaver as she smoothly navigated the car through traffic, which remained bustling, thick, and oblivious to the events that took place minutes ago, and will likely remain so for later.

At last, Weaver's car had time to slow to a stop, courtesy of a road light. "... So that's where the rest of 'em are holed up?" she inquired. Next to her, riding shotgun, was Bell.

"Yeah, that's what I've been told," Bell replied. She had just debriefed everyone of the situation and already she felt as if she had been repeating the same info already. She gently pushed her glasses up. "There main base of operations is there somewhere."

A bright red strand just poked into Bell's peripheral as Schwarze leaned in. "Any ideas on how we should find them?"

"No solid idea," Bell admitted, "but I suppose we can try poking around, either ask the locals, look up any reported suspicious activities, or just bump into them like last time." Bell snorted at the prospect of how they'd discover the video game pirates and their den.

"Aw who cares?" whined Cog from the backseat as she laid back with hands behind her head. At the rear of Bell's backseat were subtle scuff marks of Cog's failed attempts to prop her legs up earlier. "We just find 'em wherever they are, pump 'em with lead harder than Mondays, and get paid! So there ain't no need to sweat the details."

Slight tremors from the back seat replied to Cog's statement, accompanied by muffled shouts. Bell honestly had no clue how BJ could hear the conversation from within the trunk where they had voluntarily stuffed her in (for everyone's safety), but at the same time, it didn't really surprise her that she could. The car shifted back into motion again and Bell sat back down in thought.

"Well, sounds like we should stop somewhere to plan this all out," said Weaver, seemingly sensing Bell's intentions. "Emesex isn't far off so we can take our time." Swerving the steering wheel, Weaver pulled the car aside to a more temperate side of traffic. Though snaking along the side roads swapped the brisk flow of city traffic with the more spectacular city sights of the urban zone, metropolis life was none any slower. If anything, now that they brought themselves closer to the world of pedestrians and public spaces, the city felt far more alive than when on the highways. Out on the tight-knit streets, Bell saw the continual celebrations as foot traffic choked the crossroads and sidewalks.

After a lengthy time of plodding through the road, Weaver thankfully spotted an open cafe. With a brisk swing of the wheel, the car deftly swung into the closest available parking spot along the curb without sparing a second. "Right-o. I don't know about you, but I think I could use a good cappuccino."

"Hot cocoa!" blurted Cog. "I wanna hot cocoa! Large!"

Bell rolled her eyes. "I think I'll settle with whatever they have in the vending machines," she tiredly mumbled.

The convertible was vacated as a vacant open-air table was readily claimed. Inside the cafe, Bell could spy a bustling interior almost bursting at the seems with customers. Weaver and Schwarze eyed the same sight and shared the same dread as Bell. "Well, might as well get this over with," Weaver quipped encouragingly. "Alright, just stay here and I'll get everyone's orders. Cog, c'mon."

"Wha-? Why" Cog asked before Weaver tugged her away.

The pig-tailed blonde found herself hustled in front of Weaver as she pushed her towards the congregation. "Children get discounts."

Bell smirked as the pair disappeared into the cafe, letting herself sink into the cheap plastic chair. She faced Schwarze and BJ, exchanging awkward glances and silence as they waited. All around them was the incoherent cacophony of chitter-chatter and a mob of impressionable consumers with income suspiciously more disposable than before.

Schwarze nervously glanced at BJ as she began eyeing her surroundings with an increasingly sly look on her face. Bell picked up on the same sight and found Schwarze quietly scooting her seat close to Bell. "Um, so what should we do? About her, I mean. I shudder to think what kind of mischief she could get up to."

The two turned to look back at BJ who now laid a lecherous look towards a trio of sprightly girls as they slipped past their table, deep in their cheerful talk of the day to be aware of the fact that a goddess of destruction and professed fan of death metal was gazing at their booties.

Bell suddenly rose up from her seat. "I'm heading to the vending machines. Be right back," she spoke quickly. By the time Schwarze even heard her departure, Bell had already made herself scarce, having disappeared amidst the crowd, and abandoning the dismayed Schwarze to a BJ-shaped fate.

* * *

The return trip was somehow more difficult than Bell had expected. She rubbed past another person for what must be the umpteenth time so far, gingerly gripping onto her chosen canned drink as she tried to slip past idle customers and errant props at every step and turn. Bell couldn't spot Weaver or Cog anywhere as she steadily squeezed her way back to the table, with the irregular foreground of other people impeding her vision. At least, she hadn't heard any aberrations in the relative peace the Devs were in.

Then Bell heard an embarrassed squeal. And she already had a guess where it was coming, and the first two didn't count.

"EEEEEEEEK! Don't grab there! You'll pull them right off!" a voice wailed. After nudging her way past the new crowd that now congregated around the scene, Bell felt her suspicions be all too confirmed by what she saw. But what surprised her was who was involved.

A young woman, in business attire, found herself in an awkward predicament, ensnared by BJ who had the brim of the woman's dull grey trouser caught in her pinch-grip. Attempts have been made by the woman to tug herself from BJ, but it was becoming clear that she wasn't planning on letting go. Worse, the woman would only accomplish on depriving herself of her pants little by little, hence her squeals. Off to the side, Schwarze could only bury her shame-filled head in her hands as far as she could from the public debacle.

"U-um, please let go of my pants. I have important business matters to attend to and I can't do it if everyone can see that I'm wearing my ultrasoft cotton white underwear!"

BJ's eyes and smile widened as she immediately redoubled her effort, wiggling down the pant's perimeter. "Oh really? What size are ya?"

"Noooooo~~!"

Bell couldn't believe her eyes. No, it wasn't because of what BJ was doing. "Wait… have we met before?"

"Hm?" The woman peeked up at Bell through teary eyes. But like a switch being flipped, her expression instantly reverted to normal, deprived of emergency of the last few seconds. "Huh? W-wait, um, it's… it's..."

Bell sighed as she plopped down on her seat. With a light slap, the young woman was finally spared from the grip. Now freed, the young woman - familiar to and with Bell - scrambled back to her orderly business-like composure as best she could (discreetly pulling her trousers and waistcoat back together. Whether she truly was wearing ultrasoft cotton white underwear worth a week's salary will remain to be unseen).

Bell tossed a random canned drink to BJ at which she promptly tore open the entire top with her fang, like a level 100 greatsword being used against level 5 mooks. It wasn't a permanent distraction, but for Bell it would do the job. She popped open her can and looked inquisitively at the woman.

Bell opened her mouth. "So, uh..." She paused as something sunk in. "Who're you again?"

"Um, Malissa! My name's Malissa!" the woman answered, slightly miffed as she took a vacant seat. "We've met before at your store!"

"Yeah, that I remember." The cafe atmosphere had resumed its lively and hectic pace, thankfully having forgotten the spectacle. Schwarze had recovered as well, as she took an interest in the two. "You've met her, Bell?"

"Um, yes. Once." Curious looks were exchanged between the Prospective Dev and the businesswoman. "And, um, you must be…?"

"Schwarze." A quick handshake was exchanged as Malissa scanned her up and down with gnawing curiosity. "And, um, you are…?"

"Schwarze. Traveler, simple writer, helping hand. And lastly, a Prospective Dev." She spread her arms wide, taking in every bit of amazement she could from Malissa as her eyes shown with fascination. A burst of laughter sputtered out of Schwarze as she cut the facade. "Sorry, I normally don't do that. But I couldn't help it."

Malissa laughed, but it was a forced nervous one. It seemed as though the humor didn't quite jive with her. And neither did Bell as she decided to tackle the lingering question now that she was refreshed. "So what brought you here Malissa? I didn't think we'd come across each other again. That is, unless this was intentional."

"Um, as you can see, I'm here on business," Malissa replied as she fidgeted in her seat. "... Um, you know, the usual. It's been a really busy day so I thought I'd, um, drop by for some coffee." Right as she said it, she glanced downward for all to see that she had yet to get herself anything, besides empty hands and a fresh memory of getting de-trousered by BJ (it's a word now).

Malissa sighed in misfortune. "... Well, enough about me. Um, what about you? I didn't expect to run into you again either. I thought you had a store to run."

"Yeah. About that..." sighed Bell as she leaned back. Exposition time… "So this was something that happened last night where -"  
"Hey guys!"

All heads turned to see a brown scalp filtering past other heads towards them before quickly revealing the identity of the caller. Weaver emerged from the crowd with a packet of cafe-branded paper mugs in her hands. Trailing behind her, with a sulking look, was Cog.

Weaver continued making her way past bystanders. "I'm back with the goodies. Two large cups of cappuccino for me, a cup of joe for Schwarze, one hot cocoa for the short-stuff here, and -" Her trail of words died off as she noticed a new face among the Devs. Her pace hastened as she stared at Malissa with an inquiring look. "Hey Bell, who's she -"

"Gah!"  
With a sharp clatter against the foot of a table, Weaver fell forward head over heels. What once occupied her hands was now empty air as the tray of cups was flung into the air. Another loud crash, and Weaver fell smack to the ground. The accident instantly drove a spectacle as all eyes were drawn to the scene (again). Weaver slowly clambered back to her feet, grimacing as she rubbed her knee.

"Argh, for f… Hey, is everything alright?"

Then Weaver glanced ahead and immediately felt like eating her words. While the cafe was suddenly hushed with quiet murmurs and whispers, another sound that was present was a persistent, rhythmic dripping sound as Malissa's once prim and proper clothes were now muddied by two large cappuccinos, coffee, and cocoa cups worth of liquid. Her solid gray pants had become drenched dark all over her front; her black waistcoat, though pitch black, subtly glistened in the soaked portions; her splattered white undershirt became stained in the fringes not covered by the waistcoat. The remains of Cog's hot cocoa sat on Malissa's head as an awkward hat.

A heavy silence filled the air as everyone froze. Trickles of lukewarm cocoa and tears quietly trailed down over Malissa's morose face and trembling lips. Dropping a quiet swear, Weaver leapt to her feet as Malissa did the same. Spent cups and loose fluid slipped off of her, her predicament even more clear for all to see. Bearing fistful of napkins, Bell and Schwarze appeared by her side.

"Argh," Weaver griped as she began sweeping up the mess. "Guess that's a good chunk of my pocket change down the drain. Real sorry about this by the way. Damn my knees!"

But the self-blame fell on deaf ears. "Ohhh, this isn't what I need right now!" Malissa whined. "I can't go to work looking like this! Or smelling like coffee..."

"Mmm, coffee..." BJ repeated with a dreamy look.

Bell tossed away another damp knob of napkin over her shoulder, not caring where it landed. She eyed Malissa's sullied clothes, evaluating her sorry state and their progress with cynicism. "Ugh… doubt we'll make any real progress like this. We'll probably be better off getting her outside and let the sun do the job."

"Yeah, you might have a point," Schwarze muttered in agreement.

Cog huffed in her seat with crossed arms and a pout. "Whatever! I didn't get my hot chocolate 'cause of 'ol Weavy's knees. Ya better get me another one once your done wipin' her."

Weaver shot Cog a glare but that gaze evaporated once the hushed tone shifted. Immediately, she caught wind of the sudden change in atmosphere as the stares became more inquisitive and the whispers more… personal.

"... is that…?"  
"... 'Weavy?' It can't be..."  
"... Her? Here, in person…?!"  
"That quack owes me a refund…!"

Dropping everything, Weaver leaned in close to Bell, her eyes shifting around at the cafe crowd. "I don't like this at all," Weaver whispered urgently. "We should go. Now."

"Hm? G-go where?" Malissa inquired.

"Somewhere not here!" Weaver hissed. With every passing second and glance, the crowd was becoming more and more animated as a look of recognition and realization were dawning in their faces. Bell risked a peek and seeing the many eyes, felt her gut instinct agreeing with Weaver.

Weaver softly tapped her finger on their table for attention from the other Devs. "Hey! We're leaving. C'mon."

Cog tilted her head quizzically, oblivious to the mood. "Hmm? Wassup Weaver?"

A thundering, yet silent, instance filled the cafe before a storm buzzing filled the air with new whispers.  
"... Did she just say 'Weaver'...?"  
"... So it must really be…!"  
"It is her! I knew she looked familiar!"  
"If that really is her, then the others are…!"  
"That quack owes me both a girlfriend and a boyfriend!"

' _Awwwwwwwwww shit.'_ Weaver vaulted over their table, scrambling for her car keys. "To the car, now!" she urged, a warning that was rather redundant as Bell and Schwarze raced and jostled for the exit. Confused, Cog, BJ, and Malissa had only one second to comprehend the situation as the cafe interior descended into pandemonium in pursuit of the Devs.

"It's her, it's her! It's really her!"  
"Hey! Hey! Autograph!"  
"Can I get an exclusive signed copy of your upcoming game?!"  
"Come back you quack! You owe me my mortgage!"  
"Weaver, I want a chargeback you bastard!"  
"COUNTRY ROADS~~! TAKE ME HOME~!"

"EEEEEK!" Malissa cried as the tidal wave of bodies swamped her straight out of the cafe.

Out on the parking lot, Weaver thanked her lucky stars that the roof had been open all along. Not even bothering with the door, she hurled herself into the driver's seat. Bell wisely imitated the action, reclaiming her spot. Not even a second of reprieve was found before the convertible found itself mobbed by people, drowning its occupants with a cacophony of voices, all excited, rowdy, some praiseworthy, and some even angry.

"Weaver!"

"I know, Bell! I know!" shouted Weaver as she jerked the ignition to life. The engine's roar did little to daunt the crowd that swarmed around the car as they mobbed the vehicle and occupants as though it was an overly-excited zombie apocalypse.

"Wait, where's the others?!" Schwarze demanded, suddenly appearing from the passenger seat, her crimson swept strands already disheveled at the fringes. Just then, a curious series of incoherent profanities quickly made their way to the car, before revealing to be Cog as she finally broke through the crowd and tried to scramble over the car's side.

"Gah! Holy smokes on a fingered cupcake! Put tha pedal to the metal and get us outta here!" she yelped, struggling to hoist herself over the waist-high car door.

"Shuddup, I got this!" Weaver snapped. She slapped the car horn, only illicting a flinching retreat from some. Yet, the convertible's path remained blocked. Suddenly, the crowd found itself becoming forcefully dispersed from behind, cued by the unexpected launching of the unfortunate few who just so happened to be in the way of a charging BJ as she stormed towards the car with a thunderous roar. Nearing the final few steps from the car, BJ decided to throw in a tremendous leap skyward, sailing high over the heads of her fellow Devs and those she hadn't had the chance to stampede over. With the whistling of a falling shell, she landed with a crash on the velvet seat. Seething at potential damage to the undercarriage, Weaver wasted no time shooting the car backward out of the parking lot, traffic laws be damned. Reversed onto the road, she swung the wheel and slammed the accelerator, their journey forcefully back on track.

The car swerved back into the street, the journey back to being familiar, albeit now with the feeling of tailwind through the open roof. Bell finally let herself breathe, deeply exhaling the adrenaline of the recent moment away. She made a mental note to never visit a streetside cafe ever again. She officially hates them now.

"Well, so much for thinking together a plan for apprehending those pirates," Bell grumbled.

"Huh?... What pirates?" The dazed murmur caused Bell to whip around to find herself unexpectedly face-to-face with a pair of light-brown orbs partly obscured by the still-soppy brown fringes. For a brief instant, Bell thought she was back at the cafe. It would've been a very windy cafe, but still.

Flabbergasted, Bell jumped back. "... M-Malissa?!" Bell blurted in disbelief. "What're you doing here?! _How_ did you get here?!"

"U-u-um, w-well, I dunno!" Malissa jabbered in equal disbelief. Sitting next to her, Cog, Schwarze, and BJ all too shared varying looks of confusion at their unforeseen stowaway. "I-I was just - sitting at the table until, um, I got swept away by all those people! And, um, then, I got carried and somehow wound up -"

"Okay you know what, I don't care anymore," Bell interrupted. "Weaver! Make a U-turn, we -"

"Uh, that's a bit too late, Bell..." Weaver pointed to the road ahead, one deprived of any diverging paths but one: straight into the approaching cityscape of Emesex. They had no direction but forward.

While Malissa gazed upon the approaching city with confused wonder, Bell slumped into her seat, her mood deflating at their circumstances. Instead of wonder, curiosity, or even indifference, Bell could only stare blankly at their approaching destination like a foreboding herald of doom, the experience amplified by the fact that the buildings towered over her. Another grand 'ol adventure in the midst of a holiday, without much of a plan to work with, and now having a tagalong none ever asked for.

Bell's disposition was soured further as she grimaced, her nose twitching. ' _... And just where is that coffee smell coming from?!'_

* * *

"... You can't be serious!"

"Do you take me as a comedian? I will not repeat myself."

The sun still hung high over an urban wing of city of Conderica, just outside the industrialized heart. The buildings, not as tall and imposing as the deeper downtown, filled the air with a more yellow glow. But in this instance, the sun's glare provided no warmth or sympathy for the young storeowner.

He swiped his brow; he wasn't sure what he was beginning to swelter from: the heat or the woman in front of him. Deep down, he knew he had no chance - he could feel it deep in his bones. But surely there could be something…

"Look… I get that you're in a business here, and the offer sounds tempting for a part-time startup like mine… but there's just no way I can agree to the rest of the conditions as they are. M-maybe there's room for some negotiation -"

The stern-faced woman took a step forward, threatening to stab the storeowner with her piercing eyes. "Do. Not. Make me. Repeat myself," she growled slowly. Somehow, even in this heat she never seemed to be bothered by it. If anything, the encounter was seemingly ice-cold.

"As your personal store has demonstrated to be somewhat well-known in this neighborhood, I have no doubt that your small-time enterprise is… profitable, with your confirmed distribution of triple-A titles and official merchandise." She paused to peer past the storeowner with narrowing eyes. Already, her personnel were busy making the shift in management known in front of the store, some no-name store with a personalized mural branding. The display windows, while modest in size and number, were passionately filled with posters and collectibles, whatever any gamer could be interested in enough to do business.

As as it turned out, today was the day that the owner of the small store had attracted the wrong kind of business.

"... As such, your establishment is hereby under HabCo jurisdiction: the property and all its inventory will officially be considered business property and company policies will be enacted and enforced. Of course, professional staff and resources will support you and so long as you continue to perform your usual business you will retain a… favorable cut of the profits. With any luck, business will continue as if nothing had happened."

A flabbergasted look remained stuck on the storeowner's face as he waved the piece of paper around, the same scrap that detailed the unexpected deal that brought this woman to his doorstep to begin with. "B-b-but that would require me t-to liquidate most of my stock in favor of -"

The woman waved her hand dismissively, not interested in what he had to say. "Do we have a deal or not?" she hissed.

"... U-um… I..."

"I shall take your lack of refusal as a sign," the woman finished with a gratified tone. Gratified in a twisted sense. "Pleasure doing business with you," she mocked, striding past the now ex-storeowner. Walking past, she put him behind her, and in her mind, that was where he would be for all she cared.

Through the gaps of the windows, her corporation's possession efforts could be seen filtered through them. As she walked closer to the store, a presence swiftly filled the frame. Though unexpected, the woman did not tense up; she recognized who it was.

Frost marched out the store's entrance, dragging the co-owner behind her. The co-owner, a young feisty girl, tried in vain to yank free from Frost who comically towered over her. "Get off me!" she yelled. "Leave us alone you bastards!" She pulled and twisted, but her resistance was futile in the literal hands of a Dev.

"You can't do this to us!"

Her only response was to be shoved away by Frost. Although not forceful enough to throw the girl down, it was performed with the indifference of taking out the trash. Wailing, the girl was comforted by the storeowner however he could. But not that Frost would notice as she had already turned to head back to the store where her employer waited.

Only a narrow look greeted Frost as she approached. Frost knew her and what that look meant. "... Minor resistance, she proved to be the most vocal about the operation," Frost flatly reported. Her employer mused on the explanation before shrugging her shoulders.

"I see. Continue expediting our operation. I want this establishment absorbed into ours before the day is out. I expect this place to make a clear profit within a few days."

Frost silently nodded; this was Habgier she was working with. As if there was any doubt.

A muffled jingle suddenly blared out from beneath Habgier's jacket. "What?" she demanded with a subtle tone of annoyance.

" _Ma'am, it's the natural resources department,_ " the tinny voice reported with nervous haste from the speaker. " _Our sensors picked up something. A survey team we dispatched confirmed the finding._

" _We found considerable samples for the project._ "

Without another word or accidental thought of empathy, Habgier ended the call. She exchanged a glance (though it looked a lot like a glare) with Frost, who had been patiently waiting. "Come. We're heading back," she ordered curtly. Though stern, her face barely contained a wide smirk. "We have much more important matters to attend to. Much… more important." She turned and began briskly walking away without even waiting for Frost's compliance. Dutifully, Frost silently and obediently followed, putting the scene of HabCo's takeover operation behind her both physically and mentally.

Suddenly, Frost paused, a small epiphany rooting her to the spot. She whirled around, wondering if the storeowner and the girl were still there to mourn their loss, wondering if they were still there to see that everything was alright, so she could think of amends...

She found neither of them.


	15. XX

Emesex: a foreign slice of the Conderican pie, harbored in the nation's coast not so far from the capital. Though it lay within the clutches of the PC Continent's mainland, the city atmosphere proved that the other side of the world had taken root there. The exotic aesthetics and foreign sentiments of Gamindustri had assimilated alongside the familiar Conderican-style architecture: the urban buildings and structures were still utilitarian blocks but now with a bit more neon. Flat, squarish roofs and landscape stood alongside the occasional slanted stone canopies of pagodas. National blue coexisting with strange pink and purple. A brief gust even carried the faint scent of cherry blossoms.

Bell sneezed. ' _I hate those things,'_ she complained to herself. They had stopped by another cafe (one that was more sparsely-attended this time), having parked the car along a curb. Resting with her cheek on her hand, Bell peered over to the side, where she last saw Malissa. As luck had it, they managed to find a local Four Squares Union office.

She peered over to the other side to see Cog and Schwarze seated around the table; next to them, Weaver and BJ remained in the car, undercover of the closed roof and rolled-up windows. After the last escapade, Bell couldn't blame Weaver one bit. This time they'd be more discrete so as to not make a repeat. But even if they found solace, no one seemed to be quite in the mood for a strategy meeting.

' _Hrmm… Not like I can come up with anything right now...'_ Bell thought idly. ' _I'm sure something will come up eventually.'_ Nearby, a TV within the cafe had been tuned in to the daily news. Seeing as to how Cog and Schwarze had their eyes glued to the screen, it was no wonder that everyone was procrastinating.

"... and in this Conderican game store at the B-Gates Plaza, we have a very special guest!" the newscaster exclaimed, notably accentuating the last part. Behind her was the game store in question, a name Bell didn't bother trying to read. But what caught her attention was the uncharacteristic gathering within the store. As she continued watching, she realized why.

"Ms. President, it is a great honor to be with you here today!" the newscaster cheerfully introduced herself to the person in question. On the grand display was admin Winifred Dowes, dressed in her casual leather jacket waiting in line. Though far from formal wear, Conderica's admin had already attracted quite the crowd by her mere presence and recognition alone.

Put on the spotlight, Dowes chuckled. "Oh, hehe. Yeah, you and me both. But enough about that! I'm just here in line to celebrate the Festivities my style!" On the TV, she hoisted the item in her hands: a boxed copy of what appeared to be some kind of flight simulator as the cash register beamed. The latest in the franchise, but the box art still couldn't escape its decade-long tradition of generic art style.

Without further ado, all could watch as the president handed the item to the cashier which was promptly checked out, wide smiles all around. Chuckling and smiling with a hearty "Peace!", Winifred strolled her way out of the store, leaving behind the trailing newscaster, a crowded store, and a giddy cashier. The scene made Bell smirk as she playfully rolled her eyes while Cog snorted in laughter; Schwarze settled for a lighthearted side-glance at the other two.

The next news program wasn't as optimistic as the first one however, as the scene transitioned to a news report, the background image denoting the current topic as something more serious. One the screen, a different newscaster began her report. "And in other news, local authorities throughout the Conderican nation have reported a noticeable up-tick in tensions between the Four Squares Union and the Weiss Guild, more so than in any year in our country's history. While such quarrels between differing ideologies should be expected, what we've seen and heard goes beyond what was experienced before: frequent vandalization of organization property, inciteful online comments, and in some rare instances outright physical altercations among opposing members. Authorities and representatives from both organizations have yet to come to a conclusion in the face of these concerning trends. More available at 6."

The news elicited a quizzical look from all who watched. But the news channel went on with its next report. "And on the topic of vandalism, there have been numerous - and increasing - reports of game stores throughout Conderica being defaced and/or robbed. The frequent victims of such incidents have been determined to be the HabCo-owned Genesis Stations, with plenty of eyewitnesses claiming that it was all the work of crooked video game pirates. The claim has been corroborated by how many of the Genesis Station-exclusive merchandise has been found to be in pirated circulation. As for who these pirates may be, the enigmatic and underground Bumble Club has been outed as a possible suspect. Investigations are still underway, however. Stay tuned for more news!"

Bell cast her eyes away with a frown. ' _I guess our job here really is important for them. But where should we even begin looking…?'_

Suddenly, Cog jumped up and began incessantly prodding Bell. "'Ey, Bell! Look at this look at this!"

Annoyed, Bell complied and scooted over to Cog to see what the hell she wanted to show her on her phone. But when she did, the irritation instantly melted into pleasure. Contained within the small screen was a news article, the title boldly declared "' _Devilord: Immortal'? More Like 'Devilord: Dead on Arrival"!_

Having already passed the header, Bell skimmed through the article and already, she was already grinning with satisfaction. Right next to her, Cog was doing the same as they read the tabloid article.

 _It was only a couple days ago that the announcement reached the eyes, ears, and minds of many throughout the PC Continent, yet it took only a single stroke for those news to become one of the worst performance ever seen in the Festivities! The unforeseen yet anticipated new installment in the Devilord franchise, one of the many famed brainchilds of our Dev Blau, was recently unveiled with naught but a teaser. Blau's expansive and loyal fanbase have eagerly awaited further development set to be revealed in the upcoming BlueCon as the main event; speculation has run amok with what the new installment would bring; hope and optimism ran high as fans waited for "Devilord: Immortal" with anticipation._

 _So naturally, something just had to go wrong. Blau - one of the distinguished elite goddesses of our land - has, in her infinite wisdom, went above and beyond by turning excitement into scathing controversy. Downgraded gameplay, watered-down mechanics, radically altered style, and comments of a regressed art direction for those who care for such things!_

 _The cherry on top of this spectacle was during the presentation itself: when news broke out that the upcoming title demanded a new monthly subscription, one at a higher rate than before, fans were at an uproar, with one upstanding individual demanding whether the whole farce was "an out-of-season April Fools joke."_

 _All in all, "Devilord: Immortal" looks to have floundered and sank before it could even set sail. Only time may tell whether the whole project could be salvaged, but as far as her many once-fans are concerned, it is a lost endeavor even for Blau, the Dev who, with her charm and power, had just gracefully turned excitement and hype into disappointment._

Bell didn't need to continue reading, as she was chortling too much from what she read. To think that the smug, stuck-up, vain basement-dwelling excuse of a goddess would be struck with such misfortune brought (admittedly) a sense of schadenfreude in her.

' _Oh, Blau will be feeling that for all of next week.'_ Glancing to her side, Bell saw similar sentiment shared within Cog, her whole backside shaking like jubilant jumping beans.

With her brief moment of comedy now burnt up, Bell deflated back to being dreary back at the task of finding those pirates. Across from her, Schwarze gazed at Bell and Cog with inquisitive eyes, confused and wondering what it was that made the pair giggle like that. Yet, the sight of those two made her smile; it was something she didn't expect to see from the two. Quietly slipping a small notebook from her longcoat, Schwarze clicked a pen into action and began. Ideas swirled in her mind as she scribbled them on paper. She had known how close Bell and Cog were despite their differing personalities, and seeing them share a moment made Schwarze think…

How close were they? The pen scribbled.  
How _closer_ could they be? The pen scribbled even more.  
Schwarze swiftly slipped her notebook away before the two could even notice, her ideas fresh and now preserved. ' _Hm, doesn't Cog always hang out with Bell at her place?'_ Schwarze pondered. ' _I now wonder what goes on in there...'_

Unbeknownst to her, Weaver had already seen it all as she sat idly in her car. Watching the red-haired Prospective Dev hastily but secretively stash away her notes only brought a smug smile on her face. Schwarze was in no way an established writer (or at least, a more established writer) but Weaver recognized the telltale signs. But back then, she didn't expect the kind of stuff she wrote about. ' _And I wonder what goes on in your head, Schwarze.'_

Movement caught Weaver's eyes and to her bewilderment, saw Malissa approaching them. She had thought that she would be grateful to be back with her organization (which was why they dropped her off at a nearby office in the first place), so why was she approaching them?

By now, Malissa's presence had drawn all Devs' eyes as they too wondered the same thing. Seeing that she was now the center of attention, Malissa froze with a nervous expression. Her gaze strayed far from the other's. "E-eh… Errr… Um, s-so..."

Bell sighed impatiently. "Look, we don't bite (unless you're BJ) and there's no reason for you to come back to us unless you have something in mind. So just tell us what it is."

"U-um, of course!" Gripping the hem of her new waistcoat, Malissa took a breath and let the cat out of the bag, all eyes and ears at attention.

"I, uh, talked to the Four Squares Union staff and once I mentioned the stuff about the, um, game pirates, most of them all told me of a suspicious-looking place some blocks away, in a place that barely anyone or any law goes to. I-it was mainly a rumor, but I figured it could be a solid lead."

Though intrigued, Bell remained skeptical. "That's quite the rumor, assuming it is true."

"Um, yes!" Malissa replied, shifting nervously where she stood. "B-but they're certain that's where they could be. A-and besides, if the game pirates and this Kazue person are there, then this is your chance. I-in fact, if this goes well, I'll make sure you all get rewarded!"

The Devs exchanged looks, their interest piqued. Thoughts of the information's validity lingered, but gave way the moment Bell got up from her seat. "Well, what the hell. Let's get this over with."

As they began piling into Weaver's car, its engine already purring back into action, Malissa followed suit. "U-um, if you don't mind, I'd like to come along."

Weaver and Bell looked at her with raised eyebrows. "You sure about that?"

"W-well, the Four Squares Union wouldn't be able to recognize your efforts if one of their own isn't around to vouch for you."

Bell shrugged her shoulders without a word. Not much to say to that. Without wasting another second, Weaver's convertible began speeding away. From her seat, a thought crossed Bell's mind.

' _Guess that takes care of me having to think of something.'_

* * *

" _Devilord: Immortal?" More Like "Devilord: Dead on Arrival"!_

Those bold words reflected on her eyes and her spectacles as she grinned estaticly. Although only a day had passed, the view count was already on the rapid ascent with barely any sign of faltering. More and more drawn to her article like bees to honey.

Who knew exaggerations spoke more than simple truths?

Of course, the recent BlueCon was a fiasco, the unveiling was met with polarizing reception. But as far as anyone (especially Blau herself) was concerned, the whole thing was already a failure. So why not make that more abundant? It's not like the whole crowd that attended were in an uproar, but with the vocal minority was there a difference? Whether it was one vocal naysayer or a hundred, the common reader wouldn't tell the difference - especially if they can't care enough to disseminate the truth from mistruths.

But as far as Kotagon was concerned, she wasn't reporting any _lies_. She was simply writing about things as she saw interpreted them. It was up to the readers to believe her and her words.

She took another sip from her mug, taking in the rich flavor of hot cocoa. Oh the hot chocolatey goodness.

But as much as it brought a warm fuzzy feeling within her, there was still much to do. Today's news was now ancient news so Kotagon was back on the hunt for another scoop. Another juicy lure that she could spin into a big catch of the day.

She wouldn't have long to search.

* * *

A crack of light.

Sharp rapping sound of cardboard rubbing against cardboard was made as the light widened to unearth the treasure inside. The contents met a pair of eyes before a pair of hands flashed in to seize the contents. As quick as they came, the hands yanked the prize out from its container to unveil the treasure, etched onto its surface the holy expression:

 **OPPAI  
** **~~Be green with envy~~**

"Heh," the champion said to herself before racing to a nearby mirror, its scratched surface reflecting the image of a delinquent, the dark purple hair short but unkempt, kept in check by the knit-cap she always wore although some strands were disobedient, poking over one of her eyes. Holding it in front of her, she could see that the item was a good fit; the lively green coloration admittedly clashed with her dark-tinted hoodie jacket, but that was what casual wear was for. Casual, as in no one would be around to see it. Like undergarments. She had no intention of wearing something like this out in the open, not for the ordinary world at large to see. Especially not to her own gang; Amber knows what it'll do to her reputation.

"... What the hell...?"

She whirled around with a heated fluster; she had failed to notice an equally unkempt and young teen leaning into the doorframe. He stared unenthused, with the open package in plain sight. She leapt up to her feet in confrontation, only remembering to whip the new shirt behind her.

"Yeah, what the hell? Did no one told ya to knock first?!" she snarled, red-faced.

The boy shrugged. "Eh, whatever, Kazoo."

"It's 'Kazue' you 'lil twerp!"

"Yeeeeah. Sure," the teen replied unintimidated. His eyes glanced down again at the open box then up at Kazue, spying on the curious emerald item from the reflection. "Sooooo, what's that? A shirt?"

"It's none of your business, punk!" Kazue answered, swiftly shoving the shirt deep underneath the stale, sloppy mass of fabric and mattress that is her bed. "You think about spilling the beans of whatever you saw and I'll make sure you're gonna be spilling your guts!"

"Sure, whatever." The teen looked around the personal quarters of his boss, though with the messy state it was in, it didn't look that much different from all the others in the gang: fuzzy carpet barely masking the smudge-marked concrete, concrete and brick walls with an extensive coat of blemish for wallpaper, and of course, clutter and litter everywhere. With a noticeable presence of snack bags, empty soda bottles, and now empty cardboard boxes of who knows what and from where, Kazue's place gave the impression that some geeky hobo dwelled here.

Speaking of geek… The teen glanced again at the boxes, most of which accumulated as a haphazard stack against a wall. The sides all bore a curious logo, none of which he recognized. Either it belonged to some shipping company he never heard of… or it belonged to one that wasn't native to the PC Continent, if rumors were to be believed. No one had really found out what it was she was getting, something that was important enough to spend some of their money on from all their game piracy. Although it wasn't as awful as Cape Aspiration, the city of Emesex always had the weird air about it, and Kazue had that scent all over her. And considering that Kazue had recently returned from some vacation, mysterious package in hand...

The teen merely shrugged. He still wasn't onboard with the fact that a gang of PC Continent video game pirates were bossed around by some Gamie punk. Where did she come from again? L-something… Lean-something. Ah whatever.

"Now if you don't have anything else to say, get your thumb outta your pants and back to work!" The foreign delinquent was fully back to being her usual again, all pushy, bossy, and bitchy. "We still got a lot to do while they're still around!"

"Yeah yeah, sure," the teen murmured, unenthused. "More smash-n-grab ops, I gotcha," he added as he made his leisurely departure with a nonchalant wave of his hand. But he barely made it out before a forceful hand yanked him back in, and now he found himself staring down the spiky frolics of his designated head honcho.

"Yeah, exactly: more smash-n-grab ops," Kazue growled. "More HabCo stores to rob to undersell their games; if there's any that hasn't been broken into yet, break 'em! Then crack 'em and sell them without that HabCo stink, stick them where it hurts! 'Cause if we're pirates, we may as well go all the way! And don't let any of that news or morals crap get in the way, ya hear?"

"Yeah yeah, I can hear ya clear as day!" the youth replied with annoyance. And with that, he was finally let go. As he left, Kazue took the opportunity to peek outside. In the main atrium of their hideout, everything was abuzz: fellow gang members, delinquents, and pirates milling to and fro, their jackets and shirts creating a mist of swimming colors; boxes and containers moved about, their contents of stolen goods awaiting redistribution by the pirates' hands or within blank CDs.

The sight all made Kazue rub her hands in anticipated glee. With each truckload of games, another store - preferably a Genesis Station - got robbed; with each game given away by their hands, another game not sold by the slimy hands of the filthy-rich scum such as those of HabCo. Denying them any profits was a huge bonus, a suitable punishment for all that they did to contort the land's gaming culture for the sake of maximizing profits.

Well, not on her watch. Not when there's something someone could do against this, this trend of squeezing what credits one could get before moving onto the next big thing and repeating the cycle. Everyone could see this, surely.

If not, then everyone who isn't them is blind.  
The indifferent sheep who allow this to happen.  
The powers in charge who reap from this.  
The uncaring masses unwilling to prevent this.

But above all, the only ones blind to this disease were the very goddesses of the land itself who were all three.

Whatever. Who even needs them anyway? And to think that the entire continent and her old gang wanted to suck their-

An unseemly tone rang out. "Honk!"

Kazue blinked, snapping back to reality. Directly across from her, on the opposite side of the large warehouse room, the same voice called out again (a distinctly human one, she made sure).

"Honk!"

Kazue's eyes narrowed into dagger-like slits once she pinpointed the source, another one of her pirate gang, yet another unruly punk. "You talkin' to me, you moron?!" Kazue called back.

"Yeah! 'Cause you're Kazoo, 'member?"

"Kazue, dipshit!" the foreigner shouted, a fire already burning within her. "And what the hell do you want?!"

The member held up his hands, holding up all five fingers on one hand and his index finger on the other. "Just spotted six guys headed towards us, and I think most of 'em are Devs!"

The outburst had diminished some of the pirate activity, but now, all movement and work had screeched to a halt at the mention of the news. Kazue's anger had completely vanished as the news set in. And then, a feeling of excited expectation creeped in.

"Alright you bastards, listen up!" she loudly declared, climbing up a worktable for added effect. "I don't care who our guests are or whose asshole they crawled out of, but no way in hell are we gonna let 'em walk over us! We're gonna show 'em that we mean business!" Hopping down, Kazue reached for the indentation on the floor, unearthing a hidden stash and emerging with a pump-action shotgun in her hands.

"Lock-n-load, bozos!" Kazue grinned with devilish intent. "Time to show the Devs who's saving gaming!"

* * *

 _OMAKE:_

"Hey, Kazoo!"

Kazue whipped around, already enraged. "FOR F$#K'S SAKE! IT'S KAZUE!" she hollered as she menacingly approached the one who dared call out to her, yet another jacket-clad hoodlum. "If you call me by that retarded name one more time I'm gonna -"

"Okay okay," the hoodlum said, evidently not perturbed by Kazue's outrage. "So I've been thinkin'... What can we call you?"

Kazue wasn't sure what to think of the question and her temper iced down. "Wh-what the hell are you gettin' at? Can't be half-assed to say my name correctly?"

"No no no, not that," replied the hoodlum, waving his hand dismissively. "I mean, everyone's got a nickname, right? So besides 'Kazoo', I've been wondering…

"... How does 'K' sound?"

Kazue raised an eyebrow. "'K'? Eh. Sounds, uh, not very special. Try harder."

"Uh… 'KK'?"  
"Gee, how creative."  
"How about 'Kzoo'?"  
"The hell do I look like, some sorta DJ?"

The hoodlum rolled his eyes, his interest and patience waning. "Okay, fine. Do _you_ have an idea?"

Kazue folded her arms, in deep thought. She had never thought about the topic herself before.

A nickname… for herself...

"... Er, I… wouldn't mind being called 'Kaz'," she finally answered. What Kazue didn't notice was the boy's rather intrigued look, the look of hearing the rowdy, hot-tempered, violent brat of a head honcho suddenly speak in a soft tone. And now, he stared as Kazue averted eye contact, her shoulders now hunched; her very aura receded into something more timid, more placid. A form that was so unlike the Kazue that they all knew and expected.

A moment of quietness followed before an idea popped in his head.

"...'Kazy-Pazy'?"

A bullet-fast hand wiped across his face. "DROP DEAD, ASSHOLE!"


End file.
